The Hobbit:Reborn
by Kyrin And Nuka
Summary: Bilbo Baggins was a normal hobbit. Had a wonderful job at the local Walmart, ate all seven of his meals, including his vegetables, and refused to think about joining any sort of military, whether it be of Hobbiton, or else where. He lead a good hobbit's life, until that bothersome ISITARI showed up at his door and ruined everything. MODERN AU, THORIN\OC, READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!
1. Why Are We Here Again?

Bilbo Baggins was just sitting outside when it started, he wasn't even doing anything suspicious to warrant the man's attention. Just sitting on his garden bench, enjoying his vacation. Bilbo lived in the Shire, a wonderfully quiet suburb, with wonderfully quiet neighbors, except the Tooks, but they lived away from Bag End St. so he wasn't bothered by them much. Bilbo had a wonderful home that his father built his mother as a wedding gift, it was the only house on Bag End, so that's what the community called it, Bag End. He was sunning himself in the sun, when someone cast their shadow on him. Bilbo looked up at him and gave him a once over. Grey polo shirt, gray-er slacks, a lighter then the first two windbreaker jacket tied around his neck, and a gray, wooden cane with a crystal bulb on the end where his right hand was. On his grand fatherly head was a silver fedora. Bilbo was in a fine mood, so he sat up and smiled at the man in gray.

"Good morning," Bilbo said, and he meant it! It was late April, so everything was in bud. All the gardens surrounding Bag End were full of beautiful flowers, bushes, trees, and other various plants. But the man frowned at Bilbo, leaning a little more on his cane, his watch and crystal bulb glinting, right in Bilbo's eyes.

"What do you mean," He asked, his voice gentle, but firm. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or that you feel good on this particular morning, or that it is a morning to be good on, that it is a good morning whether I wish it to be or not?" The man smiled gently at Bilbo, his short, trimmed gray beard riding up his face along with his gray eyebrows. Bilbo shifted in his seat, frowning in confusion at the man. Surely, he knew what Bilbo meant the saying to be was simply a kind greeting, nothing more.

"All of them at once, I suppose," Bilbo said, turning to get into his house quickly. He expected the man to nod, wish him an good morning also, and move on, but he didn't. He just stood there and stared at Bilbo, a curious glint that the hobbit didn't like in his storm gray eyes. Perhaps he needed something... "Can I help you," Bilbo asked, hoping to be rid of the man as quickly as possible. The man frowned at Bilbo slightly and leaned towards him.

"It would seem so," He muttered. He straightened up and brought himself to his full height, nearly a full foot taller then Bilbo. "I am looking for someone to share in an adventure." Bilbo blinked at the man, he felt his mouth open up in surprise.

"An adventure?!" Bilbo stood up and tapped his toes on the grass, before moving his way to his mailbox. "I don't believe anyone west of Bree would want an adventure!" He opened up his mailbox and pulled out his mail, just as his iPhone beeped. Holding his mail in one hand, he pulled out his phone and looked at the text, it was from Lobiellia... She wanted an opinion on a dress. He ignored it. Bilbo shoved his phone back into his back pocket and turned to his house. "Good morning," He said to the man. He frowned further at Bilbo and followed him down his fence on the way to his door.

"To think that I would have been 'Good Morning' ed by Belladonna Took's son," He shouted, leaning on his cane once he stopped. Bilbo halted and turned around to look at him again, wondering if he should know him.

"I beg your pardon?!"

"You've changed Bilbo Baggins," The man continued. "And not entirely for the better!" Bilbo felt his mouth go agape again.

"Do I know you?!" The man frowned further, but it seemed that he wasn't quite as angry at the Walmart Clerk.

"You know my name, though you don't know me by it," He shouted. "I'm Gandalf Greyson! And Greyson means me!" The name finally clicked in Bilbo's poor befuddled mind. With a smile spreading across his face, Bilbo pointed gleefully at Gandalf.

"Not Gandalf Greyson, owner of the Wandering Wizard Fireworks Factory, just up the road?" Gandalf smiled and stopped leaning towards Bilbo, he didn't need to intimidate him any further. "You know Old Took used to have them on Mid Summer's Eve?" His smile brightened further, his fireworks were his pride and joy, he was always glad to have them complimented! "I had no idea you were still in business!" Gandalf's smile turned upside down.

"And why shouldn't I be?!" Bilbo's mouth flapped a few times, before it clamped down on his lip, his furry toes curling and un curling. He didn't mean any offense, he just thought he was old forty years ago! Bilbo wondered how old he was now... Gandalf took Bilbo's silence as an apology. "Well... At least you remember something about me, even if it is only my fireworks..." He took a deep sigh and smiled brightly at Bilbo again. "It's settled then, it'll be good for you! And most amusing for me..." Bilbo's mind clicked once more and freaked.

"WHAT?! No, I'm sorry, there won't be any adventures here, not today! Good Morning!" Bilbo finished climbing the steps into his elevated home and slammed the green round door shut. As he stood, leaned up against the now locked door, Gandalf stood outside, chuckling to himself as he pulled out his Blackberry torch. After snapping a picture, and texting a few people, Dwarves to be exact, he sighed and looked at the round green door. So it begins...

Kili was beyond boredom, he just might be near death. Four days so far in the middle bench, all to himself, with nothing to look at but the dreary scenery passing by on the interstate. Well, he had his phone, but nobody would text with him, not to mention that the games he had on there were glitched, so when he would try to play them, they would brick his phone, and he would have to restart it. Fili was in the shot gun seat, manning the music, slow and dead as always, and Ori was stuck with his older brothers in Dori's minivan. The youngest Durin looked at the things crowding the back bench. Ori was allowing him to borrow a knifty knitter loom and a ball of yarn, that was next to the window, slowly baking in the sun.

 _It's fine,_ Kili thought to himself, _That shade needed to be lighter anyways._ In the seat next to that was a few stacks of books that Fili had brought with, most of them fantasy romances, or science fiction novels, both extremely boring to him. Thorin turned a sharp corner and Kili hit the window to his right, but the left window on the suburban. Someone chuckled from the front as Kili brought himself into a sitting position, he glared at his blonde older brother, Fili.

"Why do you think Uncle tells you to buckle," He asked, smirking. Kili glared a little harder and turned to face the front, deciding to listen to the music.

 _Oh DURIN! NOT THIS SONG_ , he grimaced. Kili pulled the auxiliary cord out of Fili's phone and shoved it into his.

"HEY!" Fili tried to reach for it, but he ended up shoving into Thorin's shoulder, making them swerve, almost into the car stalling next to them.

"Knock it off," Thorin yelled. He looked at the younger nephew through the rear view mirror. "No grunge Kee," He added before turning his attention back to the road. Kili gave Fili a triumphant smirk and scrolled through his play lists, before settling on his country one. Banjos and twanging voices blared through the speakers, Thorin and Fili smiled, at least it wasn't ear piercing screams called singing... The three of them sung to Kili's play list for a while, slowly passing through rush hour traffic, otherwise known as car jams and turtle speeds. Who knew it would be so bad between the Shire and Ered Luin?! Around four in the afternoon, Thorin got a text on his iPhone, Fili grabbed it before Thorin or Kili could.

"Text," Fili announced.

"Who's it from," Kili asked.

"A Mister Grey? Who's that?" Thorin snatched his phone back, the traffic was at a stand still, he could take care of this. He scrolled through the message, his brows knitting as he read the message. He locked the phone and set it back on the console as he sighed, his hands ringing the already worn spot on the steering wheel.

"Did your girlfriend break up with you," Kili asked, smirking. Fili smiled. Thorin had a secret girlfriend, he wouldn't tell anyone who she was, if she was even real! He claimed it was to protect her from groups that wanted his life, but most everyone thought she wasn't real, but merely a rouse to avoid marrying Ivy, a snot nosed lady of Ered Luin that the Council there wanted him to marry. Thorin's bright blue eyes narrowed.

"No, she hasn't." _Yet_ , he added silently. He just prayed that she didn't find out why they were really taking this 'trip-across-Middle-Earth' thing or she just might... A few more minuets of some what blissful silence from the boys, until Kili moaned from the back.

"Too... BORED! GONNA DIE!"

"You aren't going to die," Thorin yelled back. To help Kili not be bored, Fili decided to spark a conversation.

"So... how long is it going to take to get to the Iron hills?" Thorin sighed again, his teeth started to grind. His reaction to the question nudged Fili and Kili's interest greatly.

"We aren't going to the Iron Hills," Thorin said at last.

"Where we going then," Kili asked.

"Did it get canceled," Fili guessed. Thorin was silent for a few moments.

"No... We weren't going in the first place-"

"WHAT?!"

"Where were we going in the first place," Fili yelled.

"Are you kidnapping us-"

"No-"

"Cause that would be AWESOME!"

"No it wouldn't be," Fili corrected. "Amad would kill Uncle, then, if he lived through that, ban him from daring to set foot two hundred miles outside of Ered Luin's city limits!"

"Oh... Right..."

"I'm not kidnapping you! And Fili's right, it wouldn't be spectacular if I did!" Thorin finally yelled over the din. Fili and Kili grew silent so Thorin could explain where they were going, and why they were going there in the first place. Thorin turned off the music, and turned around to look at his nephews. "Do you two remember that bed time story I would tell you two over and over?" Kili nodded enthusiastically, although he was slightly confused.

"The one about the dragon, and the short dwarves, right?"

"Correct... It's not a bed time story..." Thorin let that sink in, both of them were beyond confusion now. He turned back around to face the road and continued. "We aren't going to the Iron Hills, we are going to reclaim Erebor..."

"Wait a second! Who's the dragon then?! And the Orcs!" Kili yelled.

"Does Amad know?!" Fili asked. The car went silent as the boys waited for Thorin's answer.

"Know what?" Fili frowned.

"That we're going to Erebor?" More silence resonated from Thorin...

"No she doesn't," He said.

"SHE'S GOING TO KILL YOU!" They shouted in unison.

"Do you want me to explain everything or let you guess it yourselves?" Their Uncle shouted, getting more angry by the second. Fili and Kili shut up, but their argument wasn't over...

"Gregory Smaug, literally bought Erebor from Thror's rule," Thorin explained slowly, so he wouldn't have to repeat anything. "He wormed his way into the courts, and almost completed a coup."

"And that's when The princess died," Kili guessed.

Thorin nodded as the car started to slowly move again. "Thrain banished him from all Erebor's lands, and they thought that everything dealing with him would be over. A while later, he returned with an army, outfitted with the worst of weapons..." Thorin's monologue was interrupted as the gas meter dinged at him, they barely had five gallons left in the tank. He glared at the meter as he flipped on his turn signal, grumbling at it. Looking for an opening in the heavy traffic, he picked up his cell and double clicked the button at the bottom.

"WHADDA YA WAN'," The lady voice shrieked at him. Thorin growled at his phone, while Fili and Kili silently smirked.

"Find the nearest gas station," He said, veering sharply into the other lane, earning himself frustrated driver all around.

"SAY PLEASE AND I MIGHT!" With a frustrated yell, Thorin turned his phone off, practically throwing it onto the middle console between himself and Fili. He didn't want to or have time to argue with his phone!

"Fili-"

"Already on it," Fili said, looking at his iPhone. After another shocking experience, featuring Thorin, the crazy driver, other angry drivers, and Kili the living wreaking ball, they made it to the far right of the highway.

"Is it loaded yet," Thorin asked, his gaze switching from the now moving road to the slowly moving gas gauge.

"Finally," Fili growled. "Take exit twenty seven, then make a sharp right- " Fili paused and frowned at his screen, Thorin noticed.

"What is it?"

"The map and the pin says we're right on it, as if it's under the highway."

"Maybe they ran out of room," Kili suggested, clinging to the back of Fili's seat for dear life.

"Why would they do that, there's plenty of room out here-"

"Just keep your eyes peeled for Twenty Seven," Thorin growled over the argument. "FOUND IT," Kili shouted, Thorin cringed at his shrill voice. How could he have forgotten that child's shriek?!

"Where at," He asked, rubbing his temple with one hand.

"Waaaaayyyyy on the other side of the highway," Kili said, pointing directly over the left side mirror. There he saw it, exit twenty seven, and with a direct path to it too! Praying that they wouldn't be rammed as they made their way towards the ramp, Thorin floored the suburban forward, right towards the exit. Kili yelped from the back as he was flung into the back seat, Fili's eyes widened with fear as he was plastered to his seat, why there weren't scratches in the seat when they slowed down, nobody could have told you! Kili slowly popped above the seat and climbed over, holding his aching head as he buckled his rear end in.

"I guess I should have said hold on," Thorin said as he made the sharp right turn, tipping the car on two wheels.

"No duh!" Everyone leaned right as the car turned to the left sharply into the gas station. Then they would have ran into the gas pumps, if not for the great brakes that Dwalin had installed.

"Everyone good, no broken bones or whip-lash?"

"You ask me," Fili moaned, rubbing his neck. Thorin smirked and turned around to search the back seat for his younger nephew; he was no where to be seen.

"Kili," He called. His seat jerked back as Kili used it to climb up.

"Barely alive-"

"But alive," Thorin finished. He leaned back as he turned the engine off, un buckling too. "While I get fuel, you two go in and grab a few snacks." Thorin exited the vehicle to fuel up, while Fili and Kili walked towards the store.

"I wonder why someone would want us to help reclaim Erebor," Fili wondered aloud as he shrugged on his dark blue jacket.

"Not just anyone, the heir of Durin," Kili reminded as he stepped onto the curb. "Think about it, this is huge!" He added, running his hand through his shoulder length, dark brown hair.

"Pull that mop up," Fili commanded, handing Kili a hair-tie.

"Maybe he'll pay us enough to get Amad out of that dump we live in now," Kili said as he pulled up his hair. Fili rolled his blue eyes as Kili looked at him with brown eyes, ponderously.

"Come on Kee," Fili said as they walked in. "Dain's generous, but I doubt he's paying anyone..." The door shut softly behind them, little did they know that Thorin was listening in on their conversation. He had to tell them sooner then later, otherwise... he didn't want to think about it. As he waited for the tank to fill, he casually looked at his watch, and saw that it was five in the afternoon.

"Oh Durin..." Thorin looked at the meter next to his head, wishing that it would hurry. He was going to be late if he didn't leave right now! It finally stopped and he pulled the pump out of the gas tank. Quickly paying for the fuel and sliding into the driver's seat, Thorin started the engine, grabbing his phone. He accidentally typed the wrong pass code, "WHO IN MORDOR ARE YOU AND WHY DO YOU HAVE THORIN'S PHONE," it shrieked at him. He typed the correct pass code and sent a text to Fili and Kili, explaining why he had to leave them here. Two different beeps sounded from the seat next to him, and behind him. "Curse their lazybones," He growled as he sent another text, this one to Dwalin. Once that was sent, Thorin roared out of the gas station, just as Fili and Kili paid for the snacks.

"Thanks again," Fili said as Kili took the bags off the counter. The lady smiled brightly at them.

"Y'all come again, ya hear," She said with a friendly wave. The second they were out of the store, a few shivers went down Fili's spine.

"What," Kili asked.

" Did you see the way she was looking at me?!" Fili shuddered again.

"Get used to it," Kili growled, kindheartedly. They scanned the lot for the familiar black suburban, but they couldn't find it

"Could he have parked around back," Kili asked.

"The back of what, there's a barrier at the back of the lot, you could see it through the window," Fili said throwing his thumb behind them. Fili reached for his phone, only to find it not in his pocket. "Do you have your phone on you?" Fili was starting to get worried...

"No, I left mine in the rig, which Thorin decided to move-"

"To where?!"

"I don't know, why'd you ask me?!"

"It sounded like you knew where he went-"

"Are you two okay," A concerned hobbit asked, stopping right next to them. They weren't sure what to tell the hobbit.

"Just fine," Fili growled. Kili elbowed him in the ribs.

" Just looking for our ride, I think he ditched us," Kili said. The hobbit's eyes widened and he darted into the store. Kili frowned and turned to Fili. "Was it something I said?"

"Beats me, have any change?" Fili looked at the phone booth on the side of the building as Kili dug through his pockets.

"I got two bucks, how 'bout you?"

"Five, then I still got Uncle's card," Fili said.

"I'm gonna go get some change for the pay phone, maybe Dwalin or Dori could pick us up?"

"Good you do that," Fili said, turning back to the road. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it. A black Chevy Camaro with tinted windows pulled into the lot, and it didn't have a license plate. Dents were all over the hood, doors, and side mirrors. A sense of dread crept over Fili, something was urging him to duck into the store, so he did. Peering over the window, he saw the Camaro pull up to a pump and a man in a suit get out. He was smartly dressed, obviously wealthy, but he had many scars on his face. So many scars, he had never seen that many! He impatiently stood by the pump as he waited for his rig to fill up, looking at the watch on his left hand repeatedly. The dial was on the inside of his wrist; Fili noticed a tattoo, partially covered by the watch. Before he could get a good look at the damaged skin, Kili tried going out the door.

"Get down," Fili hissed, grabbing Kili's arm and pulling him behind the wall.

"What are you doing," Kili growled back. "You almost made me drop my wallet!"

"Better then what could be out there," Fili said quietly. He peered over the display rack again, hoping the guy hadn't seen Kili. It was just something bugging him, he couldn't tell what it was though. He scanned the lot for the Camaro, but he couldn't find it. Heaving a sigh of relief, the elder stood up and brushed himself off.

"What was that about," Kili asked, standing up and placing his wallet in his pocket.

"Nothing-"

"That was anything but 'nothing', you never get freaked out-" Kili's rant silenced suddenly, then a wicked grin spread across his face. "She was out there, wasn't she?"

"No-"

"HA, She was! Man you really dislike her!"

"I don't like her, I'll admit that, but that wasn't why I was hiding! There was a man out there, with a sinister feel about him!" That really shut Kili up for real, he stared out the window for a while.

"What was he driving," He asked, his own gaze scanning the lot.

"Black Chevy Camaro- THERE HE GOES!" Fili shoved Kili back under the window as the car drove past the window, then sped back onto the road. Fili stood up and took his hand off of Kili's shoulder. Kili stood up like a spring.

"Can I help you two, or are you going to sit there by my window all day," A man behind the counter asked. Or, hobbit, I should say... Fili looked at him and ducked his head in embarrassment.

"Sorry sir," He said, grabbing Kili's shoulders and dragging him out the door. Kili tripped on the thresh hold of the door, and they tumbled onto the sidewalk. Fili landed on his younger brother, whilst Kili was smashed between his older brother and the pavement.

"KILI!"

"Get your arse off o' me!" Fili scrambled off of Kili and pulled him to his feet. Gun fire rang out from the black Camaro, who had just been circling the building via feeder bullets hit the two Durins-

(((Hi guys! I'm Nuka, and I'm very excited to post my first story on Fan ! I do have the same story on , but I wanted to hear what the guests thought of this, so that's that. Please enjoy!)))


	2. A Hole, A Goose, And Home

Myrin woke up with a hard start. The gray dawn sun was just coming into her window, spilling over her little desk, over the three feet of floor space between her bed and desk, then on to her pillow. Breathing heavily from the nightmare, she flung her legs out of bed and grabbed her phone, looking at the front screen. It was almost seven in the morning, and two sweet texts from Thorin were announcing themselves, a good night, and a good morning. At least he's safe, Myrin thought. She unlocked her phone and sent him a reply.

Good Morning Stub Butt!

She really meant it in the most loving way possible. Once it was delivered, she double clicked the button.

"Yes," It answered.

"Track Thorin, Fili and Kili," She asked it. A few moments of silence, then a map pulled up of the Shire, three different colored dots appeared a few moments after that. Myrin had installed a tracking app onto her phone, and as long as she knew their phone number, she could track them. Fili and Kili were near a hotel called the Green Dragon, while Thorin was closer to Bree. That's when she called Kili.

"Hummm," He mumbled.

"You okay," Myrin asked. Silence met her.

"How can I be okay, when you wake me up at seven in the morning," He asked.

"Where's Fili," She asked, getting fed up with Kili. Yes she loved him, but she needed a straight answer at the moment.

"Doing somethin' with Dwalin... Oh wait, here he is..." The other end of the line clunked as Kili threw his phone at Fili, Myrin cringed as it hit a wooden leg.

"Yellow," Fili said, much more awake then Kili was.

"Would you tell your wonderful brother that he'll loose his phone if he keeps throwing it like that?"

"Sure thing," Fili chuckled. "So why'd you call?"

"Just a hunch that Thorin ditched y'all," Myrin growled.

"Yep, but Dwalin picked us up-"

"There wasn't a black Camaro was there, at the gas station he ditched you at?"

"What-"

"Was there?!" Silence met her again, she hated it.

"No- But what has that to do with anything?" She was silent for a moment.

"Nothin, have a good day," she said at last. She could just abou see Fili's smile.

"Okay, you too!" He hing up as Myrin lowered her phone. Something wasn't right, she could just feel it. Setting her phone back on her desk, she went to her closet and picked out her outfit for the day. A black leather jacket, a white tee under that, with dark blue jeans and her army surplus boots adorning her feet. After braiding her long gold/red hair and grabbing her phone again, she left her small room and went into the hall. That's when she heard glass shatter. Her heart stopped for just a moment before she rushed out of the hall.

"DIS," She called, racing around the corner and into the kitchen, glass crunched under her foot. On the top of the counter, by the sink, a golden long haired cat was circling a cage, holding a rabbit. "Griffon, you sly little cat," Myrin sneered at the cat. He looked up and mewed pitifully at her, then jumped down and ran to the empty food bowl near the crappy dishwasher.

"What was that," Dis mumbled as she came around the corner in her moo-moo, half shuffling, half running. One hand was holding her forehead and messy bright blonde bun, the other was rubbing her eye as she yawned.

"Nothing special, Griffon just knocked over a glass, thank the stars for Walmart, right?" she kicked at the glass underfoot, glad it wasn't a special dish.

"Okay, I'm going back to bed then," She yawned again. She turned around and shuffled towards her room.

"I'm heading to the store, do you need anything?" Did stopped shuffling and thought for a moment.

"Bring back a pack of Pepsi and some more glasses..." Dis shut her door as Myrin grabbed the little broom and dustpan and started to sweep up the shards. Griffon mewed at her again, then started to spin around her legs.

"Be patient, I'll get you some food in a minuet!" Griffon hissed at her and sassed back to his bowl. Dumping the shards into the trash bin, Myrin went to the animal cupboard, to find the cat food completely empty. "Oh of all the days..." Myrin slammed it shut and grabbed two set of keys off the hook. Out of the apartment she went, waving to the landlord, Mr Hurtz as he unlocked his door. He growled back something in audible, for the best I would think. Myrin raced out of the building and into the car garage next to it, then hopped into Dis' white truck.

Once she was done at the store, Myrin had the rest of the day to herself, but her nightmare wouldn't stop bugging her. She was glad the black caremo wasn't real, but maybe something else was... That's when she decided to snoop around Thorin's home office. He never cleaned it up, surely she'd find something there... Locking the door behind her, she walked over to the paper covered desk and started searching. In his to-do bin, for starters. Laying right on top was a check, from a Mr Gaeralagos Arrad. Myrin picked it up and scanned it closer. She recognized the name, and the handwriting, she just wondered why he would be giving Thorin 200-k. Had he sold some coal or sulfur to him, or was there something more stragne... She set the check down on a part of the desk she had cleared and opened up a drawer, after she picked it of course. Inside were hundreds of folded papers, most of them had water damage, though the weren't moldy as of yet. Curious, she picked one up and unfolded it. The writing on it was in some form of rough, jagged elvish, but she understood it perfectly. What it said, however, scared her more then seeing the speech its self. It was a wanted poster, for none other then Thorin Oakenshield. Thankfully there wasn't a picture, though there was a very fine description, even a place where his pursuers thought he was. The reward would be discussed if they ever found him, Myrin would make doubly sure they wouldn't!

Kili leaned back in the shot gun seat of a rental that Fili was driving.

"How could you have gotten lost," Kili moaned as they turned onto another road.

"I don't know, I followed the directions perfectly!" Fili shouted, thumping the steering wheel as the car straightened out. Kili let out a sigh of desperation.

"Who sent them?"

"Uncle forwarded them from Gandalf-"

"Well there you go!" Kili sighed again at Thorin's lack of navigation, somehow Fili had inherited them. And the fact that Fili thought just once that his directions could lead them where they needed to go. Kili stared out the window.

"I still don't understand why he couldn't have text us the directions," Fili growled. Kili peeled his head off the window and glared at his brother.

"Because we changed our phone number," Kili reminded.

"Right..." Kili leaned on the window again, staring at the houses that they past by. Suddenly, Kili opened up the door and jumped out. They weren't going more then five miles an hour, but it still gave Fili a heart attack.

"Kili!" He appeared from his roll on the pavement and smiled back at Fili, who was sure to skin him after he was back in the car.

"I'm fine, I'm just asking directions from her," He said, throwing his thumb back at a hobbit lass, locking up something for the night, it looked to be chickens. Fili stared at her for a moment, then shifted the rental to park.

"Not without me," He said, throwing the seat belt over his shoulder and getting out. Kili smirked, then quickly wiped it off his face before Fili could see. Together they walked up to the hobbit's fence, and came to a predicament. How to introduce themselves, and who would ask the question.

"You do it," Kili said quietly, elbowing Fili gently.

"No you," Fili said, shoving him towards the fence.

"Why can't you," Kili argued, trying to stay quiet so as not to startle the hobbit. He tried to walk away from the fence, but Fili grabbed him in a chicken wing and held him.

"Because you look less threatening," Fili said with a smirk as he shoved Kili over the fence. He landed with a loud yelp, right in the hobbit's garden. Said hobbit glanced back, startled.

"Excuse me mum," Kili called, slightly red thanks to Fili. He stood up and started to brush himself off. "We're lost and we was wonderin' if you could help us get un lost?" She set down the bucket she was carrying and set her hands on her hips.

"I might," She said. "Where are you two heading anyways?"

"Actually, we don't know," Fili said, leaning over the fence. The hobbit frowned at the boys, hoping that they weren't pulling her hair.

"You see mum, We're supposed to meet a friend of ours, at a friend of his house, but we've never been 'ere before," Kili explained, not giving anything away, but giving her enough details so she could help. "The only thing that our friend gave us was a picture of the house."

Inside the girl's house, her father was reading by the fireplace. He was simple minded, but loved his daughter to his ending breath. He lost her mother to an outbreak of Orc Fever, so he always worried about his little blossom, as he called her. He was wondering why His Blossom was taking so long locking up the hens, when he heard someone yelp. His stomach dropped and threw his book into the other arm chair, racing towards the closet by the door.

"You head down this street, take a left, then follow the creek right to Bag End," The Hobbit instructed the two dwarrow. They smiled, grateful for the correct directions.

"Thank you so much," Fili called over the fence.

"I really am sorry about your flowers," Kili said, stepping forward to shake her hand. She opened her mouth, and an old man's voice came out.

"You stop righ' there, you rascal," He shouted. Thankfully, it wasn't from her mouth, but the mouth of the house. It was a large hobbit, holding a pointed shovel, actually looking pretty scary. "Step away from me daughter, erh you'll get whats comin' to ye," he shouted when Kili didn't get the gist. Kili finally got it, and Fili hopped he would step out of the yard, but to his horror, he took a step towards the enraged hobbit.

"Sir, I didn't mean anything by-"

"One more step son an' I'll call Goosey," The hobbit snarled. Kili stopped, and half frowned at him.

"Goosey," He asked. The hobbit bounced the shovel in his hand. "What's that?"

"He's the gander that we've raised since it hatched," The lady explained, picking up the bucket again. "Well boys, it was a pleasure knowing you, and I hope to see you in the after life!" She walked to her father, leaving Kili absolutely confused.

"What," Kili asked, looking back at the hobbits.

"GOOSEY," The shovel wielding maniac yelled. Something honked behind the house and shed, about half way in between the two. He started to cackle as a large white goose sauntered into the house light.

"You look so fluffy," Kili said, still not believing what the lass had said. Then he saw the gander's eyes, red like blood. His heart stopped, and he froze in terror.

"Get 'im Goosey," The hobbit cackled before slamming the door shut, though he remained on the porch. The goose trumpeted as he flapped his wings.

"Come on Kee, what's a goose gonna do to you," Fili called from beyond the fence.

"You should see it from this side," Kili mumbled. The goose reared it's head and charged at Kili, who ran towards the gate. But the murderous, shovel wielding hobbit was there waiting for him.

"OH NO YE DON'T!" He swung the shovel at Kili, who ducked and rolled back into the crunched flowers, the goose tumbled into his master's legs, but got right back up. Kili got right back to his feet, wanting badly to escape the garden of doom! He flung himself over the fence, Fili pulled him the rest of the way over and they sprinted to the rental. Fili turned the key and the engine roared to life, the goose jumped onto the hood.

"STEP ON IT," Kili screeched. Fili stepped on the gas, the car lurched forward and the goose rolled over the windshield, over the roof of the car and fell off the back.

"And don't ye come back," The hobbit yelled at them as they sped away, hearts hammering.

"I am never asking for directions again," Kili whimpered.

"Me either..."

Bilbo was just sitting down to eat his supper. It was a wonderful plate of fish and chips, and the hobbit was just squeezing on some fresh lemon juice, when the doorbell rang. Bilbo frowned, mid squeeze. He wasn't expecting anyone, all he knew would have at least text him a warning for their coming, so he wondered who could be at his door. Standing, Bilbo's wonderful little mind had a thought, it very well might be Lobiellia.

"If it's that woman, I'll smash her toes in the door," Bilbo growled as he walked to his round green door. He opened it, thankfully not to Lobiellia, but to a gruff looking dwarf! The hobbit was taken aback by the stranger. His head was bald, though tattoos covered from one ear to the other. It seemed to depict a story of some sort, but the hobbit couldn't understand it. Around his ears was dark brown hair, starting to gray. He wore a leather jacket with two flaming axes on his back, just above the shoulder blades. The dwarf turned around and it just about made Bilbo jump out of his skin. His face had a scruffy, but well kept beard, ending just below his collar bone and his bright brown eyes held nothing but suspicion, maybe a bit of hunger. Bilbo noticed, underneath the stretched leather, the dwarf had huge muscles. The dwarf narrowed his eyes as he bowed, making sure to keep eye contact.

"Dwalin, at your service," He seemed to growl, his voice deep and thick with accent. Bilbo's mouth flapped, then he remembered he wasn't even dressed. All he had on were his pajamas and a robe. Blushing with embarrassment, Bilbo tied his robe tight.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours. Uhh, have we met?" Dwalin righted himself and walked into the hobbit's house, he stood a good foot taller then Bilbo.

"No..." He continued down the hall and looked around as he took off the leather coat. "Is it down here," He asked, turning around towards Bilbo, who was still by the door, wondering why this rough dwarf had invaded his home.

"Is what down where," Bilbo asked, starting to wonder if calling the authorities would be a good idea... Dwalin stopped by the entry way into the front parlor, holding his jacket in his left hand.

"Supper," Dwalin said, tossing his jacket at Bilbo. "He said there would be food, and lots of it..." Dwalin found the kitchen, and unfortunately, Bilbo's fish and chips. But Bilbo was unknowingly gracious.

"He said," Bilbo asked, then he frowned. "Who said?" Dwalin failed to answer, he was too busy eating Bilbo's fish. Bilbo finally noticed he was still holding Dwalin's coat, and hung it up in the hall. Then he retreated to a stool in the kitchen, between Dwalin and the window, mourning the loss of his fish and chips. Dwalin ate silently, eating every bit of the food, including the head. Dwalin gave a ghost of a smile and pointed to the plate.

"Very good this, any more?" Bilbo stared at the empty plate for a moment, then snapped out of his trance to tend to his 'unwanted' guest.

"Erhm, yes," Bilbo said, standing and looking around. He spotted the buttermilk biscuits he had made earlier that day, in a bowl in the window. Snatching the bowl off the sill, then looking to his guest, Bilbo realized he was still hungry, after all, his guest had stolen his meal. He quickly grabbed one of the biscuits and hid it behind his back, then handed the bowl to the hungry, and greedy, dwarf. Before Bilbo could sit back on to his stool, however, the door rang again.

Who could that be, Bilbo wondered, looking through his front parlor and to the entry hall. Dwalin looked up from his bowl and raised a brow at his host.

"That 'll be the door," He said, gruffly. Bilbo looked back at him, and almost gave an annoyed response, then he saw all the scars on the dwarf's face. Bilbo timidly walked around the table and went back to his door.

This time, it opened to a white haired dwarf, who reminded the hobbit much of Santa Claus. He wore a red button up shirt, a pocket on the left side of his shirt had a pair of glasses tucked into it. The shirt was tucked into thick jeans, a red windbreaker was over everything. This dwarf had a large nose, bright blue eyes, they held old, wise knowledge. His beard was long to his hips, then it forked and curled upwards. He smiled at Bilbo, who was even more confused, as he bowed with a flourish of his arms.

"Balin, at your service," He said. His voice was kind, and warm. Bilbo frowned.

"Good evening," Bilbo replied, beginning to believe that it wouldn't turn out too be. Balin rose up and nodded.

"Yes, yes it is, but I fear it might rain later," Balin admitted, looking up at the clear sky before coming inside. To the east, storm clouds were beginning to billow towards the Shire, even now it looked like a rough storm. He clapped Bilbo on the shoulder, he and Bilbo were about the same height.

"Am I late," He asked, much more serious then before. Bilbo's worry doubled as he stared into the face of Santa's impostor.

"Late for what," He asked.

"Oh," Balin shouted, looking into the front parlor. Dwalin had moved in from the kitchen to the parlor, and had his hand digging into Bilbo's cookie jar on the mantle of his fire place. Bilbo noticed with a shock he was wearing knuckle busters, disguised as finger less gloves. Balin let go of Bilbo and left him by the door as he walked towards Dwalin, who squinted at Balin.

"Evening Brother," Balin said, cheerfully. Dwalin smiled and set the jar back on the table in front of the arm chair.

"By my beard," He said walking away from the mantle. "You're shorter and wider then last we met." Balin stopped in front of Dwalin and smirked.

"Wider, not shorter," He said, squinting one eye. "Sharp enough for the both of us," He said, quieter, winking at Dwalin. The other chuckled as he grabbed the elder's shoulders, Balin doing the same. They chuckled some more, then thumped their foreheads together, making Bilbo flinch. The hobbit realized he was letting the heated air into the cool night, and shut the door as the dwarves made their way quiet like to the pantry.

 _Why are there dwarves in my house_ , Bilbo wondered, leaning on the door. _And why did the white haired one ask if he was late, it's not like there's a party at my house! And I certainly wouldn't invite the likes of them to one_! Bilbo shoved off his door, expecting to see the dwarves talking in his parlor, but he didn't find them there.

"Where'd they go," Bilbo asked, his worry raising by the second. He heard talking around the corner, so he followed his ears. He found them in the second place he didn't want to find them; in his larder. They were discussing about his food, and about what they should eat. Bilbo walked up to the entry way of the larder and peered in. Balin was to his right, examining the cheese, while Dwalin was to the left, looking at the soda Bilbo had stashed away.

"Excuse me," Bilbo said. "I'm not exactly sure you're in the right house." Dwalin found a mug and filled it up with root beer, both the dwarves ignored Bilbo completely. "It's not that I don't like visitors, I like them as much as the next hobbit, but I like to know them before they come... Visiting..." Bilbo's hands had found their way to the sash around his middle, and were intently tugging on the loop that held his sash to his robe, rocking back and forth on his heels. The hobbit wanted them out of his house, but he was a hobbit, meaning he was timid, and polite in everything that he did. Balin grabbed the blue cheese from the shelf and looked it over.

"I just-" Bilbo started, but the dwarves weren't minding him at all. Honestly speaking, Balin was worried about the 'moldy' cheese.

"What's this," Dwalin asked, standing by the shelves in the middle of the pantry.

"I don't know," Balin admitted. Dwalin took the cheese and sniffed it, gagging in disgust.

"You see, the thing is," Bilbo began again, but the dwarves interrupted him, once more.

"I think it's supposed to be cheese, but it's gone blue!" Balin continued. Dwalin gave it one more look, "Look at it," He said. "It's riddled with mold!" Then he threw it over his shoulder.

"I don't know either of you, in the slightest," Bilbo said, mourning another of his food items gone to waste. He tore his eyes from the blue cheese and looked back at the dwarves. They were still rummaging through his food, Balin held his coat in the crook of his arm.

"I'm sorry to be blunt," Bilbo continued. "I'm sorry..." Balin and Dwalin, who had their heads together, discussing the soda, pulled their heads up and looked at the hobbit, who was putting on a brave face. In other words, sticking his chin out and glaring at them. Dwalin thought he looked like a dwarf-ling who hadn't gotten his way... Balin smiled at Bilbo, he thought he was still talking about the cheese.

"Apology accepted," He said with a nod. He turned back to Dwalin. "Fill these up brother, don't just stand there!" Bilbo's mouth flapped open, that was anything but what he meant! Before he could straighten out the mess he had accidentally made, the door rang again.

 _Who could it be this time_ , He asked himself, slowly turning around. He started to walk towards the door. _You know, I wouldn't mind Lobiellia, she might actually drive these confounded dwarves out of my home!_ Bilbo opened the green door once more, to find two young dwarves there. I say young because their hair wasn't as gray. These two were obviously brothers, thanks to their nose shape, and face shape. The taller of the two had brunette locks, pulled back into a ponytail, while the shorter, only by a few inches, had blonde locks, about three inches on the top, though it became shorter then closer you got to his neck. The blonde was wearing a dark brown shirt, with a brown jacket over top, on his feet were army boots. His wrist was wearing a watch, and he wore dog tags. The brown was wearing a blue shirt, with ¾ sleeves of a darker blue. He also wore a watch, another set of dog tags, and finger less gloves, Bilbo made sure they weren't knuckle busters. The door was fully opened, and they straightened slightly. Bilbo frowned at them.

"Fili," The blonde said.

"And Kili," The other said.

"At your service," They said together, bowing.

 _Oh, no, no, no, no NOOOO_ , Bilbo screamed in his head. They righted, and the brunette gave him a lop sided grin.

"You must be Mr Boggins," He said.

"Nope," Bilbo replied, nodding them away with his head. "You can't come in, you've come to the wrong house!" Bilbo started to slam the door, but Kili, curse his steel toed shoes, blocked the door with his foot.

"What," He asked, seemingly horrified. He shoved it back open, Bilbo grunted and shoved back, but the door moved for Kili, who stepped up to the door frame. "Has it bee canceled?" Fili leaned over his shoulder and stared at Kili, almost accusingly.

"Nobody told us," He growled, turning towards Bilbo. Kili pulled out his phone.

"Is this your house," He asked, showing the phone to Bilbo. He stared at the picture he had up. Boy, Bilbo's house looked different in the morning, then it did at night...

"Of course it is, and no, nothing's been canceled," Bilbo shouted. Kili pulled away his phone and shoved his way into the house.

" 'At's a relief!" He walked in and started to look around. Fili shoved past Bilbo, also looking around. Bilbo glared at both of them, at least Santa's Evil Twin and the Reaper's Assistant had some manners, these two obviously don't! As they walked past the hooks on the entry hall, they hung up their coats,.

"Nice place this, did you do it yourself," Kili asked, looking around the hall. Bilbo stammered, his temper was raging.

"No, actually, it's been in the family for years-" Then Kili had the nerve to wipe his mud covered boots on a very special box.

"That's my mother's Glory box, could you not do that please," Bilbo shouted, he had been trailing them through out his house, he honestly didn't trust them. Dwalin came around the corner, and smiled breifly at them.

"Fili, Kili, come on, give us a hand," He said, grabbing Kili's shoulder. Kili jumped when Dwalin grabbed him, but he smiled back once he knew who it was.

" 'Ello Mr Dwalin," He said brightly. Fili turned around, from heading farther into the house, and went to the dining room, trailing after Dwalin and Kili. Balin was waiting there, between the table and the hutch on the side of the wall. Kili clapped his shoulder before grabbing the end of the table.

"Let's shove this into the hall then," Balin said. "We'll never get everyone in here without moving it." Bilbo came around the corner, still following them.

"EVERYONE," Bilbo asked. "How many more are there?!" Then the door rang again. "Oh no..." Bilbo walked towards the front door, his anger turned to near rage. "No, There's nobody home!" He realized he was holding everyone's coats, he had meant to give them back before shoving them out the door. He threw them onto the floor. the blonde one's clattered.

"Go away and bother someone else," He continued raging. "There are far to many dwarves in my dining room as it is! If this is some clott head's idea of a joke, HA-HA, I can only say, it is in very poor taste!" Now Bilbo had done his far share of pranks when he was a young hobbit, after all, he was a Took, but this had gone too far! He pried open the door, and eight dwarves fell in. Not for the last time, Bilbo wished Lobiellia had been on his door step, instead of Dwalin, as his mouth flapped open. Gandalf leaned down and peered into the house, his eyes roving over the pile of dwarves, squirming and groaning on the thresh hold. He saw Bilbo and smiled, almost apologetically. The hobbit promptly glared.

"Gandalf," He snarled.

"Good Evening, my dear Bilbo," He said, side stepping the dwarves. He stood up tall in the entry way, his head went above the lowest part of the chandelier. "Good heavens, why are you still in your night clothes, you have guests!" Bilbo frowned once more at the dear family friend of his, then stalked off to his room to change. Gandalf watched him leave, then turned to the largest of the dwarves.

"Bombur, we know that you are hungry, but when you see the door open, you can't just barge right in," He scolded. The large one, clothed in a baby blue shirt with orange flowers, and khaki shorts pulled himself up, rubbing his bright red hair back off his face, and pulling his mustache/beard off around of his cousin's neck.

"Aye sir, it won't happen again," He huffed. That wasn't really what happened, but Bombur wasn't about to argue with a master of Fireworks! He might have a wizz popper hidden up his sleeve! He stood and helped up his cousin, who had a bright pink beanie over his black mid back hair. His name was Bifur, and he was odd to say the least, though everyone assumed it was because of his injury. He always wore the same outfit, a bright shirt with a kitten on it, plaza pants and bright flip flops, they all varied in colors though. The beanie was something he almost never took off. He stumbled up and smiled brightly at Bombur, who shrugged and directed himself and Bifur to the dining room. Gandalf leaned down to help another dwarf to his feet, one with a floppy hat. He wore firehouse cargo pants, with suspenders, over a pale brown shirt. He adjusted his hat, then straightened his brown mustache and shaggy brown hair.

"Thank Ye Gandalf," He said, brushing his shirt off. He turned right around and helped Dori to his feet. Dori had tightly braided gray/silver hair that was plastered to his scalp. His beard was just the same, only it was in a beard clasp. He wore a green knitted sweater, that he proudly made himself, bright blue jeans and black hi top shoes. Bofur retreated to the pantry, while Dori fussed over his younger brother, Ori. He was stuck in a green wool sweater that was two sizes too big for him, so the sleeves were rolled up a ways on his arms. He wore knitted finger less gloves, also made by his wonderful brother Dori... Ori grabbed the satchel he wore and made sure all his pencils, and notebooks were still in there. They were, and once Dori was finished checking him for bruises, cuts, scrapes and concussions, they joined most of the others in the dining room. Their other brother Nori, had joined the others long ago, thankfully for him, he was right next to Bombur. He had red hair, just like Ori, and he was very rebellious. Dori made him a sweater, though he refused to wear it, he also refused to let his brothers go hungry. So he went into thievery. Everyone wondered how Dwalin and Nori would get along, seeing as Nori was the best thief in Ered Luin, and Dwalin was the Police Chief, and General. Everyone started to shuffle food out of Bilbo's pantry and fridge.

Bilbo came around the corner, pulling the suspenders of his brown pants, then he shrugged on a green vest, underneath was a white shirt that he rolled the sleeves up on. He saw what the dwarves were doing, specifically Bombur and the hobbit's rosemary chicken he had stashed in the fridge.

"Excuse me, that's my chicken," He growled at Bombur, who paid him no mind and went right into the kitchen. "And that's my Root Beer," He yelled at Bifur, trying to grab for the jug. It was special clear root beer, it took a good long while to make it, and Bilbo didn't want to share it with these robbers! Bifur flung his head back, and his beanie fell off, showing a large ax stuck right into his skull. That shut the hobbit up as Bifur leaned down, grabbed the beanie, said something to him, and continued to the table. Oin the dwarf approached Bilbo from behind, holding his own platter of food. He was in a short sleeved blue shirt that had seen better days, brown cargo pants and real boots.

"He's got..." Oin couldn't say it quite right, "An injury..." He said at last. Bilbo turned around and looked up at him questioningly.

"You mean the ax in his head," Bilbo asked, sarcastically. Oin winced and thumped his right ear, then twisted the hearing aid a tad.

"Dead," Oin asked, cupping his hand to his ear and leaning in. He shook his head. "No. Only between his ears, his legs work fine." Bilbo watched him go with his pears under arm, then turned to the rest of the dwarves, saying put that back to every single one that wouldn't mind him. Meaning, Bombur, who was barely restraining himself from snitching food, Dwalin, who never listened to anyone, and Oin, who couldn't hear anything! After he realized it was useless ordering the dwarves to not eat his food, he started to plead for them not to eat certain things, like his Black berry jam, which took four days to set. Then he saw Bombur walking out of the pantry with four cheese rounds.

"Excuse me," Bilbo said, running his hand up and down his suspender, trying to straighten it out, and trying to calm his nerves. "That's a tad... bit... excessive, don't you think- Do you have a cheese knife?" Bofur chuckled as he walked past.

"Cheese knife, nah he eats it by the block!" Bofur walked past, carrying Bilbo's carefully carved ham, that he prepared all by himself, after getting it from the Store, of course. He turned around, Fili and Kili were trying to move his keg of ancient root beer, honestly he didn't care, it just might be rotten, so he didn't bother asking them not too. Then he spotted Oin taking Grandma Mamoo's chair to the dining room.

"NO, That is Grandma Mamoo's chair, it's not for sitting," He shouted at the deaf dwarf.

"What are you sayin'," Oin asked.

"Put it back," Bilbo shouted, shoving him back down the hall.

"I can't hear ye!"

"That is antique and it's not for sitting on," Bilbo said with another shove.

The dwarves were worse during dinner. They chewed with their mouths open, spoke as they chewed, and they had a food fight. What was worse then that, Gandalf sat there and let it happen. Bilbo gave up trying to stop it and turned to inspect his pantry, hoping that he would have enough for tomorrow. He obviously didn't. The shelves were bare, excluding the bags that once held food, the wrappers and bottles. The hobbit's teeth ground inside his poor little head, why of all places did they have to ransack his house?! There were plenty of Tooks out there that wanted an adventure, and that was undoubtedly why Gandalf was there. Earlier, he over heard Gandalf say there was one missing, though Dwalin assured him he was coming. Bilbo's snarl deepened.

"The next person that rings my door bell, I'll knock him out," He promised.

After dinner, Bilbo caught one of the dwarves using his mother's doily as a dishcloth, and he wouldn't have any of it.

"Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth," Bilbo shouted at him, pulling it out of his hand. The red haired dwarf looked hurt, but wiped his hand on his black shirt and continued on like normal. Bofur frowned at Bilbo.

"But it's full of holes," He argued. Bilbo let his shoulders sag as he turned to explain crochet.

"It's supposed to be like that, it's crochet," He explained as he folded the precious doily up. Bofur smirked.

"Oh, and a wonderful game it is too, if you've got the balls for it..." More then one of the dwarves laughed, they have such dirty minds... Bilbo set the doily on the shelf in the kitchen, then pounded his forehead on said shelf.

"Oh bother and curse these dwarves," He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter," Gandalf asked, walking into the kitchen. Bilbo glared at the old man, trailing after him.

"You ask me what is wrong, when there's dwarves fighting each other for my sausage links," He growled, pointing at Nori and Bofur, tugging at both ends of the sausages.

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them..." Bilbo's face scrunched up as he frowned further at Gandalf.

"I don't want to get used to them," He growled, staring up at Gandalf _. Maybe if I show him what they've done, he'll understand,_ Bilbo thought. He grabbed Gandalf's elbow and dragged him towards the hall.

"Look at the state of my kitchen," Bilbo growled, looking back at said kitchen. Pots and pans were piled high on the counters, crumbs were everywhere, and those were just getting ground into the wood, because everyone was mulling around the hobbit's kitchen.

"There's mud, trod into the carpet," Bilbo continued, pointing to the runner that lead from the front door, towards the pantry. Bilbo watched as it had changed three shades as his unwanted guests had arrived.

"They've pillaged the pantry, I'm not even going to tell you the state of my bathroom, they've all but destroyed the plumbing- I don't understand what they're doing in my house?!" Gandalf had followed Bilbo through out his tantrum, and was about to call Bilbo a 'baby', but little Ori came up to Bilbo, holding his plate.

"Excuse me," He said innocently. "But what should I do with my plate?" Bilbo looked at the young dwarf, opened his mouth, but then Fili came through.

"Here you go, Ori, give it to me," He said. Fili picked up the plate, bounced it in his hand, then sent it flying to Gandalf, who sidestepped away from the plate. For half a second, Bilbo thought it would crash into his wall, and send shards every which way, so of course his little heart went hammering! Not only would his mother's precious pottery be destroyed, but his wall would be damaged! Then Kili stepped out of the kitchen and caught the plate, holding his phone in one hand. He threw it behind him back into the kitchen, Bilbo's heart had calmed when Kili had caught it, but now it was twice as fast. The dwarves from the dining room started to laugh, then they sent more plates out into the hall between the dining room and the pantry, then they sent it to Fili, who tossed it to Kili and he threw it into the kitchen. Bilbo's eyes widened in panic.

"Excuse me, that's my mother's farthing ware pottery, they're over a hundred years old!" Bilbo looked at little Ori, to find him smiling and wide eyed at the display. The hobbit looked to Gandalf, hoping he would knock some sense into them, but he was busy dodging and laughing. Bilbo growled, then walked to Fili, to try and stop the foolish dwarf. Then a nasty thought popped. If he messed Fili up, all his mother's dishes would shatter, because he wouldn't be there to catch him. Then Fili started to bounce a bowl on his elbows. Bilbo tried to shout at them to stop, he truly did, but all that came out were stammers. He retreated to the dining room, where he saw the dwarves thumping the silverware on the table, seemingly in a rhythm, Bilbo didn't see it.

"Could you not do that, you'll blunt them," He finally shouted at them, Bofur chuckled evilly.

"Ooh, do ye hear that lads, he says we'll blunt the knives," He said, bashing fork and knife against Nori's own set. Kili started up from the other room, bouncing to the rhythm the dwarves in the dining room set.

"Blunt the knives bend the forks-"

"Smash the bottles and burn the corks," Fili continued, bouncing a plate on his elbows again, Bilbo tried grabbing for it, but that dreadful thought kept him at bay.

"Chip the glasses and crack the plates, THAT'S WHAT BILBO BAGGINS HATES!" The dwarves laughed and continued to throw the hobbit's dishes about, scaring the poor man more then he ever had in his life.

"Cut the cloth, tread on the fat, leave the bones on the bed-room mat, pour the milk on the pantry floor, SPLASH THE WINE ON EVERY DOOR!" Bilbo watched in horror as Ori walked into the kitchen with a large stack of plates, it towered high over his head. Balin wasn't doing much, just lifting his plate to the beat, sending a dish to Fili, who had his back turned to the table most of the time.

"Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl, pound them up with a thumping pole, when you're finished, if any are whole, SEND THEM DOWN THE HALL TO ROLL!" Gandalf, the infuriating old man Bilbo ever had the indecency to meet, was blowing smoke rings, not to mention in his house, but so that the dishes could pass through the rings! Bilbo couldn't handle any more in the dining room, so he went to the kitchen, or he tried to. Kili was up in the door way, blocking the path, and Bilbo witnessed a near murder, if Bifur hadn't turned and caught the sausage fork the second he did! Like he needed more things stuck in his head! Bilbo couldn't get in to see if his dishes were truly broken, they weren't even in there. He heard clattering in the dining room and rushed back there, a wall of dwarves blocked the way to his table, but he could see a few of his dishes.

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates," They shouted as he shoved his way through. He stared at the dishes, not one was broken, they actually looked cleaner then they had been in quite a while, better then his dishwasher ever done. He could hear everyone laughing at him, even Gandalf. His ears started to burn.

"See Bilbo," Gandalf asked as he sat down. Before they could get at Bilbo's second larder, where he stored the oatmeal cream pies, someone knocked on the round green door. Silence filled the house as all eyes turned to the door. Gandalf looked solemn.

"He's here..."


	3. The Deal's Struck

Gandalf opened the door, Bilbo was barricaded from the door by another wall of dwarves. He didn't see who was standing there, but he could feel a sense of awe radiating from Ori. Dori too, for some reason.

"Gandalf," A deep voice seemed to growl. A tall dwarf walked through the door. The first thought that went through Bilbo's mind, was he needed a hair cut. The dwarf's black hair was down past his shoulders, held behind him by a hair tie at the base of his skull. He had a red shirt, and a fur lined coat with a deep blue shade. He glanced at each dwarf, his eyes lingered on Bilbo, a look of disgust crossed his face for just a split second.

"I thought you said this place was easy to find," He continued, starting to shrug off his coat."I got lost on my way south, twice..." He gave Gandalf a pointed look. "I wouldn't have found it at all, if not for that mark on the door and the photo..." Bilbo heard Fili and Kili snicker from the other hall. Wait, MARK?!

"Mark? Excuse me, there is no mark on that door, I had it painted a week ago," Bilbo explained, finally pushing through the wall of men. Gandalf turned around from shutting the door and smiled gently at the hobbit.

"There is a mark there, I put it there myself," He said, looking down at him. "Bilbo Baggins, I would like to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield..." Bilbo turned to look at the new dwarf that invaded his home... He shoved the coat into Kili's arms and stepped towards Bilbo.

Thorin looked down at Bilbo, attempting not to snarl in disgust at him.

"So... This is the hobbit," Thorin said, mocking a smile. He tilted his head, almost weighing the option of actually letting him join. No, He reminded. Hobbits are nothing but trouble, they complain about anything and everything. Thorin narrowed his eyes as he looked the hobbit over.

"Tell me master Baggins, have you done much fighting," He asked. Calf muscles aren't too large, doesn't like to run. Fore arms weak, must only garden.

"Pardon me," Bilbo asked, his head following Thorin.

"Gun or switch-blade," He continued, letting a smirk grace his face. "What is your weapon of choice?" Bilbo's cheek twitched as he glared.

"Well, if you must know I have some skill with conkers," He said, rocking back and forth on his feet. Thorin smirked a little more. "But I fail to see why that's relevant," He added, fists clenched tightly.

"Thought at much, he looks more like a grocer then a burglar," He said, looking behind him. Everyone chuckled. With a final glance at the seemingly worthless hobbit, Thorin turned and went into the dining room. Gandalf watched them leave, then leaned on the arch way above the door way and looked at Bilbo, as if to say 'What did you do'. Bilbo shrugged.

"You're the one that brought them in, don't blame me if they don't like me," He said, with much sass. The old man sat there for a few moments, just staring at Bilbo. He growled as he lifted his arm from the arch and joined the dwarves in the dining room.

"It's obvious I'm not wanted," Bilbo snarled quietly to himself after a while more. "Maybe I should just hand them the deed to the house, they've stolen all my food anyways." At the mention of food, Bilbo's stomach growled. He had only eaten that measly little biscuit, and that seemed like years ago! Bilbo stomped towards the second pantry, his stomach almost roaring over the sounds of the conversation in the dining room.

"They said it was our mission, and ours alone," Thorin practically growled. If it wasn't for the years of biting his tongue, he would have growled then. Bilbo stopped, mid-stride, then turned into the dining room.

"What sort of mission," He asked before his mind could stop his mouth. Gandalf turned around, leaning back ever so slightly.

"Bilbo," Gandalf said, surprised. He cleared his throat before continuing. "My dear fellow, let us have a little more light..." Bilbo nodded, but he wasn't really paying attention to Gandalf, his eyes were on Thorin again. He wasn't eating the soup. Thorin must have noticed Bilbo glaring at him, because he blew on the spoon to make a sound like a slurping noise*.With a final glare, Bilbo moved to find some light bulbs. Gandalf started to speak, Bilbo tried his darnedest to listen in, but he only caught bits and pieces. Something about way over east, solitary peak, Bilbo couldn't hear that well.

"Wait a second, I just replaced those bulbs," Bilbo reminded himself. He went to the light switch behind Gandalf and turned it on, looking over his shoulder.

"The lonely mountain," Bilbo read, Thorin gave him a 'no duh' face.

"Aye, Oin has read the portents," Gloin began, but nobody listened to him. That was all mumbo jumbo, nobody believed that junk any more. "And the portents say, it is time..." Bilbo noticed something flickering just beneath Gandalf's hand, so he looked. Gandalf's finger was on fire! Before Bilbo could point it out however, Gandalf blew his finger out. Bilbo's stomach growled again, so he went to search for food, deciding that his mind was playing tricks on him, Gandalf probably had a lighter and burnt his finger.

"Birds have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. 'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign on the beast will end...'" Bilbo stopped his search for food and walked towards the dining room.

"What beast," He asked. Bofur pulled the pipe out of his mouth.

"That would be a reference to Gregory Smaug," He said. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age," He added, tapping his pipe to his mouth. A cold breeze drafted in, from where though, no one could tell. The air conditioner must have kicked on. Bofur must not have noticed, because he continued to describe him. "Born without a soul, tongue quick as lightning, eyes that pierce into your soul, extremely fond of precious metals-" Bilbo had started to wring his hands, he looked right at Bofur and gave him a mock smile.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," He said*. Ori stood up suddenly and leaned on the table, his ears bright red.

"I'm not afraid, I'm up for it," He shouted. "I'll give him a taste of dwarvish ammo right up his-"

"Sit down," Dori shouted before he could finish. Everyone, however, cheered the youngster on.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin said, almost at a whisper. "But we number just thirteen," He continued, louder. "Not thirteen of the best." He looked over at Thorin. "Nor brightest," He added, looking directly at Thorin. The dwarf in question's ears grew hot.

"Oi, who you calling dim," Nori shouted, the rest were saying things of the same sort. Oh dear, Bilbo thought, If they start fighting- He didn't want to finish the thought. As the dim grew louder, Fili pounded the table.

"We may be few in number," He shouted, looking around the table. "But we're fighters... Everyone of us, to the last dwarf!"

"And you forget, we have an ISITARI in our company," Kili added enthusiastically. The Intelligence of Strategy, the Investigation of Terrorist Attacks, Reports and Identity corporation, or ISITARI for short, was a group of three men, Gandalf Greyson, Radagast Barkin, and Saruman Whittles. They were the head council of the organization. They had hundreds of agents around Middle Earth, and it was their job to protect the inhabitants from Sauron Ltd, ORCs, and others who would do the earth harm.

"I bet Gandalf has killed hundreds of dragons in his time," Kili continued. Gandalf removed the pipe from his lips and tried to explain that he hadn't, but the dwarves spoke up again, cutting him off.

"How many then," Dori asked, particularly loud, loud enough for Gandalf to hear over the rising voices.

"What?"

"How many dragons have you done in," Dori repeated. Thorin turned slowly to Gandalf, silently asking the same question. The aged man's lips spilled out smoke, he started to cough. "Come on then, give us a number!" The dwarves lept to their feet and started to shout at one another, the noise was deafening. They pounded on the table, shoved against the walls, Bifur looked like a little tornado as he shook his hands above his head at Nori, that was enough to get Bilbo to act.

"Excuse me, please-" But Thorin stood up and shouted something in Khuzdul, everyone sat down and quieted instantly.

"If we have seen these signs, do you not think others would have seen them too," He asked quietly commanding all at the table for their attention. "Rumors have begun to spread, the Dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years... Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk..." His sharp eyes roamed around the table at the dwarves seated there, they looked almost ashamed. "Prehaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unguarded," He continued after pausing, for dramatic effect, Bilbo would suppose. "Do we sit back, while others claim what is rightfully ours, or will we seize this chance to take back Erebor?!" The dwarves cheered loudly as Thorin shouted again in Khuzdul, before sitting back down. (Du Bekar or To arms, if y'all are interested)

"You forget the front gate is sealed," Balin shouted, taking all the hope from the room. "There is no way, into the Mountain..." Gandalf leaned forward, smirking.

"That my dear Balin, is not entirely true," He said, twirling a key in his fingers. Bilbo stared at it, his curiosity getting the better of his common hobbit sense.

"How came you by this," Thorin asked, though he seemed distant. Gandalf inhaled,

"It was given to me by your father," He said. "By Thrain..." Fili and Kili rose up in their seats, just enough for Bilbo to notice. They shared a look of what seemed to be horror, but there was a mix of excitement too, in their look. "For safe keeping," He added. "It is yours now..." He handed the Key to Thorin, who took it as if it might explode.

The pained look in his eyes as he took the key, he couldn't hide it, no matter how much he wanted to. Why did he give this to the old man, Thorin wondered, twirling it in his hand. Why didn't he seek me out? Clutching the key tightly, Fili spoke up.

"If there is a key, there must be a door," He said, giving his uncle a hard glare. Gandalf nodded and pointed, with the tail of his pipe, at the map.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage," He said. "To the lower halls..."

"There's another way in," Kili said, beaming like an idiot. Now Thorin understood why Dis was so eager to let them go. Gandalf nodded, shrugging it off as childish innocence.

"Well if we can find it," Gandalf said. "Dwarf Doors are invisible when closed..." He sighed. "The answer lies somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. But, there are those in Middle Earth who can..." Thorin and Gandalf shared a two sided look, one side seemed to say 'not them', the other said 'yes them and only them'.

"The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth," Gandalf said, looking around the table. "And no small amount of courage," He added looking at Bilbo, who frowned at him. Thorin still didn't understand why they needed a hobbit. He knew quite a few people much more stealthy then any hobbit, a few of them were sitting at this table! "But if we are careful, and clever, it can be done," Gandalf finished.

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori said.

"Hum-muh," Bilbo said. He had leaned in to get a better look at the map, but leaned away and pulled on his suspenders. "And an expert at that..."

"And are you," Gloin asked. Thorin felt like saying, "No of course not, he couldn't burgle a troll!" but he kept silent. Bilbo tore his eyes from the map.

"Am I what?"

"He said he's an expert," Oin said with a chuckle, holding his ear. Bilbo panicked.

"Me, ME?! No, NO! I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life!" Thorin almost snorted.

"I'll have to agree with Mr Baggins, he's hardly burglar material..." Balin mumbled. Thorin almost smiled, Finally someone sees sense!

"Aye, the wild is not for gentle folk who can neither fight, nor fend for themselves," Dwalin said, glaring at Gandalf, then staring at Bilbo. The hobbit seemed to be dancing right behind Thorin's left ear, the dwarf kinda wanted to stomp on the hobbit's feet to make him stop pacing, or throw his hand up and smack him in the nose, the latter was more preferable... The company started to shout about how they would be a better burglar then Bilbo, or about how Gandalf was nothing but an old coot. That particular comment came from Kili, Gandalf's brows came forward as he frowned, then he stood up suddenly, silencing everything. A dark shadow past through out the room as a crazed look entered Gandalf's eyes.

"ENOUGH," Gandalf shouted, his voice deeper then Bilbo had heard before. "IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR, THEN A BURGLAR, He is..." The shadow shrank back to normal size, the wild look in Gandalf's eyes faded. If you asked anyone what the shadow was, they would just pass it off as a brown out, but Gandalf would tell you otherwise... Bilbo looked as if he would argue, but he didn't make a peep. "Hobbits are remarkable light on their feet, in fact they can pass by unseen by most if they choose. And while the Dragon is accustomed to invading dwarrow, an invading hobbit, is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." Gandalf sat down again, staring coldly at Thorin.

"You have asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr Baggins. There's a lot more to him then people would suggest, and he's got a great more to offer then any of you know," He added, casting a cold look around the table, ending on Bilbo. "Including himself..." Thorin took a deep breath and looked around the table for himself. Everyone was looking at him, waiting for his decision. If the hobbit joins, he'll be nothing but trouble, Thorin thought. Dwalin's right, the wilds are not a place for those who aren't able, like a hobbit. Thorin turned to give his final thought to Gandalf, he had his mouth open to speak too, but Gandalf said it first.

"You have to trust me on this, Thorin..." Thorin actually doesn't know why he did what happened next, he says the old coot made him do it, but anyone there would say otherwise.

"Very well then... We'll do it your way..." Thorin turned to Balin as Bilbo started shouting 'No' in his ear. I'm gonna regret this...

"Give him a contract," He said.

"Alright, we're off," Bofur yelled as Balin pulled out the tablet and scrolled to the contract file on it.

"It's just the usual summary of out of pocket expenses," Balin said, standing up and holding the contract out to Bilbo. "Enumeration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Balin smiled and nodded, but Bilbo didn't take the contract. Thorin silently growled, snatched the contract out of Balin's hand and shoved it into Bilbo's chest.

"Funeral arrangements?!" The shove was enough to make Bilbo stumble backwards, so he doubled tapped the contract and started reading, mumbling to himself. Thorin stood up and leaned over to Gandalf.

"I can't guarantee his safety," He whispered.

"Understood-"

"Or be responsible for his fate..." Gandalf took a moment to respond.

"Agreed..." Thorin leaned away, satisfied. I already have two babies to look after, I don't need another, Thorin though as he looked at Bilbo, slowly reading the terms. The Dwarf looked back at the company he assembled, his eyes moving slowly over each one.

(Flash back!)

"I'm telling you it's too much," Myrin yelled at him. "Don't do it!"

"Don't do what?" Thorin asked, grabbing another shirt from his closet.

"Reclaim Erebor! It's too dangerous," She yelled, stomping towards his suitcase and slamming it shut. "Dis has lost one brother already, and a husband! She doesn't need to loose the other, and her sons! They'll trail after you like-"

"You think I haven't thought of that?!" Thorin snapped back, his shirt dragging on the ground as he walked over and opened the luggage with careful consideration. Silence washed over the small room as the two long time friends stared at each other. "You think I haven't thought about how much it would put on Dis? On the boys? I have Myrin. Think about it..." Thorin set the shirt in the suitcase, then shut the lid. "When it's back in our hands, we'll have more riches then we could ever need! We'll finally have enough food for ourselves and the lads, enough to stuff ourselves silly! Aren't you tired of working," He asked, walking up to Myrin, gripping her shoulders and shaking her ever so slightly. "Aren't you tired of going to bed, worried about where the next meal is coming from? Or if there's enough for the lads? I know I am... That's why I'm going..."

"Going where," A young voice asked. The two turned around and found little Fili standing in the door way in his nighties, his teddy tucked under one arm. Myrin's rage softened as she leaned down to pick up the young one.

"Why are you up little one," She asked as she lifted him up.

"I couldn't sleep, Amad didn't tuck me in," Fili said, whistling through his missing teeth.

"That's cause she's in Bree silly," Thorin said, grabbing the duffle and the suitcase.

"Where are you going," Fili asked again, staring up at his uncle, wide eyed.

"He's going somewhere where he might not come back," Myrin said before Thorin could, her amber gaze turning cold as she glared at Thorin. Fili switched his gaze between Myrin and Thorin, tears welling up.

"You mean, like Ada didn't," He asked. That hit a soft spot on Thorin, he winced and set down the luggage to hold his nephew.

"No," He said softly, stroking Fili's head once he was in his arms. "No, I'll come back-"

"Or you may not," Myrin growled. "No matter how much you promise Thorin, there's always that little bit of risk..." she added in hand gestures. Fili looked up at Thorin, who looked down at the young one.

"Please don't go," He said, hugging Thorin's neck. "I don't want you to go too." Fili started to cry, sobs racking his little frame. Thorin hugged Fili, rubbing his back.

"Shhh, It's okay..." Thorin hesitated, weighing his options carefully. At last, he spoke. "I'm not gonna go," He told Fili. Fili pulled his head up out of his neck.

"Promise?" Thorin smiled but he couldn't help but feel a small twinge of regret.

"Of course I promise," He whispered, pressing his forehead to Fili's. Though the dwarf-ling blocked most of his view, Thorin didn't miss the look Myrin gave him, silently warning him that she would keep him to his promise.

( End o' flashback)

That was over fifty years ago, but the memory wouldn't stop bugging him. Maybe it was because he was breaking his promise, or maybe it was because he now had drug Fili and Kili in, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Incineration," Bilbo shouted, looking back at the table, also dragging Durin's Heir our of his thoughts. Bofur pulled the pipe out of his mouth again.

"Oh Aye," He shouted, somehow full of enthusiasm. "Melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye!" Bilbo rolled his eyes and lowered the contract. Then he started to gag.

"You alright Laddie," Balin asked. Bilbo nodded.

"Yeah..." Bilbo breathed for a little bit before adding, "Feeling a bit faint." He leaned on his thighs, breathing steadily, but the color in his face still drained.

"Think furnace with wings," Bofur said, talking about the helicopters with large flamethrowers Smaug had used during the attack on Erebor.

"A-air," Bilbo shouted. "I need air!" He gagged again, his hand flew to his mouth, Thorin smirked. His face was turned away from everyone, so he could without Gandalf harping on him.

"Flash of light," Bofur continued, standing at this point and shuffling towards Bilbo. "Searing pain, then PUFF, you're nothin' more then a pile of ash!" Bilbo tried to smile, he really did, but he couldn't. Then he let his shoulders sag. He's gonna faint, Thorin predicted, and sure enough, the hobbit fainted. Thorin turned, shaking his head.

"Very helpful Bofur," Gandalf said, moving to help the hobbit.

"Do you need some help," Bofur asked.

"No, he's quite light..." Gandalf picked up the hobbit and took him to the other room, and the company disbanded, most went to the kitchen. Though, Fili, Kili and Thorin stayed in the dining room...

"I think you've got some explaining to do," Fili growled, leaning towards Thorin. He sighed and sat back down, the humor from the Hobbit now gone. Clasping his hands on the table, the caring Uncle Fili and Kili Durin had know all their lives, revealed all the secrets he had kept from them.

(* I was watching the scenes very closely, and Thorin wasn't eating the soup)

(*dragon in this world is greedy businessman or businesswoman kinda a loan shark)


	4. Gregory Smaug

Thorin was born to Thrain Durin, and Brier Gem-Smith, crown prince and princess of Erebor. One year later, they were blessed with Frerin, and a year after that, a daughter named Dis. Then tragedy struck... Arei, a rouge half-dwarf, killed Brier, and the captain of the guard Orin Broad-Ax. Orin's wife Illya had three little ones of her own, Orin, Myrtle, and Myrin, each only small infants. Thrain was a wise prince, but not the best father, so Thorin and his siblings were taken under Illya's wing, so to speak. Under a more thorough investigation, it was found that Gregory Smaug, the chief councilman, had bribed and supplied Arei with the supplies to murder, not only Brier, but all the royal family. Smaug was sentenced to banishment from all Erebor's lands, and as the guards escorted him to the borders, Smaug vowed to return.

Five years later, when Thorin was eight, Lady Illya, Orin, and Valeria were killed by a mob, who called themselves Trolls, on their way to Rivendell. Myrin had stayed behind, because of a venomous snake bite, which she miraculously survived. Going through their things, Thrain found that Illya wasn't a dwarf, and for some unknown reason, he went ballistic. No longer was Myrin aloud to be friends with his children, and he didn't even want her in Erebor, so Thorin and Myrin devised a plan. They secretly went to Thror and had Myrin sign a contract, to become Thorin's confidant. Thrain was, of course, furious, but Thror's rule was always final. When Thorin turned Ten, Thror desired to send Myrin to the Iron Hills, she needed to see the world and to gain experience. There was no more that he could teach her. Myrin accepted and moved to the Iron hills for seven years. When she returned, that was the day Smaug returned...

"That is the last time, my friend, that you are ever cooking," Myrin said, dumping the stew Thorin had made into the pit she dug with her boot heel. Thorin looked hurt as she covered the stew with earth.

"But I put my heart and soul into that stew," He argued. "Salt, greens, meat, what more could you need?!"

"Seasonings," Myrin shouted, throwing the foam bowl at him, it landed in the fire pit. "You can't live off of meat, as much as you men want to think! The stew could have been good with seasons if you didn't add that much salt! You've never been good at cooking, now that I recall! You blew up Amad's oven-"

"You dared me to bake that cake-"

"You created a baking soda vinegar bomb in the kitchens-"

"Who's the one that got the vinegar off the top shelf-"

"And you gave your poor grandfather food poisoning! FOOD POISONING!" Thorin couldn't hide the snicker, stuck on his face, Frerin was hiding behind a tree comically. Myrin went to her tent to get her graham crackers, Frerin came back from behind the tree.

"Wasn't she the one that put the pink meat in," He asked.

"No, I think that was Myrtle," Thorin admitted. A hot, dry wind blew in from the north, rocking trees, blowing down widow makers, it almost took all the flames from the fire. A large dark shadow past quickly over head, a deep silence fell over the forest. Myrin tumbled out of her tent, her face white.

"What was that," She asked quietly. Neither Durin answered as they scanned the skies, though it was hard with the wind still swaying the trees. A deep and loud thrumming interrupted the once silent forest, flames came down on the three's heads.

"RUN," Thorin yelled, getting up, grabbing Frerin's shoulder and shoving the two in front of him.

"TO WHERE," Frerin yelled back.

"TO THE TUNNEL WHERE ELSE?" Myrin yelled. The thrumming deepened,the forest was suddenly unbearably hot. Each of them turned their heads, and saw as the forest about a hundred feet back burst into blue flames. They looked ahead, the tunnel was about four yards ahead, if they could just make it- Myrin yelled out as she crashed into a fallen tree, practically somersaulting over it.

"MYRIN!" Frerin turned to help his friend up and to get her to safety, but the flames were spreading quickly, thanks to the dry summer they had. Thorin grabbed Frerin's jacket hood, pulled back and lugged him over his shoulder, kicking and screaming back to the tunnel, slamming the door behind them. Once Frerin was set down, he turned around and slammed into Thorin's middle, still yelling. Thorin blocked the punch aimed for his gut, grabbed his brother's arms and held them at his sides, pinning him so he couldn't move.

"Why," Frerin asked after a moment of sobbing. "W-we could have saved her! We-"

"We were too far ahead Frerin, she would have been dead by the time we got there, if she wasn't able to move-"

"But I saw her getting up! You just sealed out-"

"Then it's something I'll have to live with, I wasn't about to let my little brother get burned alive," Thorin shouted.

"Thorin, Frerin," Someone called from down the hall. Light appeared from around the corner, it was a blue light, must have been from a flashlight. Balin came around the corner, smelling scorched. "Oh, Thank everything good you two are safe! Any burns, are ye able to fight?" Both of them were taken aback as their old friend scanned them with the flashlight.

"Fight-"

"Who ever is attacking is almost through the front gate," Balin explained, circling Frerin. "Thror has called every man to arms-"

"But we aren't even old enough to be a Private," Frerin interrupted, Balin thumped him in the back.

"Every man able to hold a pitchfork, and you've been in the archer's guild for how many years now?"

"Six..."

"You two are good," Balin growled, shoving between the two and walking down the hall. Dead, feared silence fell between the three, every now and then a deep thump echoed through the halls, along with screaming. Balin picked up the pace when they were out of the tunnel, they were now in the markets. People were huddled behind the stone stands, Thorin could hear mothers gently singing to their children, terror thick in their voices. He hated it.

"Thorin, Thrain wanted to see you in the entry hall," Balin said. "Frerin, you come with me..." Clenching his fists, Thorin started to run. "Thorin!" He turned around.

"Please be safe," Frerin said quietly, his brown eyes glazed.

"You too..." He ran towards the entry hall as fast as he could, the thumping turned to heart stopping pounds against the entry hall gate.

"There ye are lad," Someone called. Thrain beckoned him over to one of the pillars. "Glad ye are safe- Ready to fight?"

"As I'll ever be," He growled. Thrain nodded, stroking his beard, his face scowling. "Balin said you wanted to see me?"

"Of course I wanted to see ye," Thrain growled. "Yer me son!"

But you didn't want to see Frerin, Thorin silently argued.

"You need to lead the front ranks, don't attack, just defend," Thrain continued, handing Thorin a Kevlar body suit and helmet. Thorin felt his heart stop, his breath caught in his throat. Thrain looked up from the table he was standing behind, Thorin hadn't noticed it before. "Can ye do it, lad?" Everything was screaming at Thorin to say no, that he needed to be anywhere but the front ranks, but the thought of letting his father down, yet again, being called a horrible crown prince, yet again, Thorin steeled himself and stood straight.

"Aye sir," He said, looking Thrain in the eye. No, in the eye, Thrain's right eye was missing. Thrain smirked.

"Good, get in the armor and things you need," Thrain said, waving him off. Thorin nodded before spinning on the ball of his foot and treading down the halls, though he couldn't shake the feeling of dread and regret...

Thorin adjusted his helmet again, Fundin had given him one size too big, he could feel it. Holding his sword in one hand, his shield in the other, and the weight of his pistol and rounds at his waist, Thorin and his troops waited for agonizing minuets as something barraged the front gate, making it bow inwards and turn hot. It suddenly blew apart with a bright light and lots of heat. Sunlight flooded into the entry hall as the soldiers recovered from the blast, though nobody came through the gaping hold in the side of the mountain, not even a grenade. Thorin was glad the rest of them hadn't been blown to bits too, the entryway was said to have sulfur running through the walls.

"Pitiful," Someone said from just outside, though his smooth tenor voice was loud. "I thought Thror would have reinforced the gate..." Rubble crunched underfoot as a lone, gangly man walked into Erebor. He had dark curly hair, wore a suit of all things, with pointed dress shoes to match. With his hands clasped behind his back he walked in, his angled face emotionless, though he looked smug.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND," Thorin yelled in Khuzdul, shifting his shield. He honestly thought his voice would crack, but it thankfully didn't. Then man turned to Thorin, he was easily seven foot tall, and had vibrant red/orange eyes, they seemed to dig right to your soul. His cheek pinched before he broke the stare of death to scan the Hall.

"Where is Thror," He shouted, looking around. "If demands are met today, gentlemen, we might all walk away alive," He added. "So tell me where Thror is, or bring him here!" Nobody moved. The man narrowed his eyes. "Very well then..." He pulled out a handgun and pointed it at Thorin. "This one dies if one does not get Thror, am I clear?!"

"In the name of King Thror-" The Man fired at Thorin, who brought his shield up, thank Durin the shield was thick! The bullet embedded it's self deep in the shield, the shot echoing through Erebor, drawing even more silence. He must be crazy! Thorin thought, peering over the shield.

"He has no authority over me," The man said, still aiming the gun at Thorin. He looked at one of the soldiers. "You will get Thror, or he will be killed, plain and simple for your simple minded brains. Now scat..." The soldier in question hesitated for just a moment, before heading deeper into Erebor. "I truly do wonder what it's like in your little heads, it surely must be boring," He said, turning back to Thorin. His face frowned, Thorin lowered his shield ever so slightly, he wasn't about to be shot. The guy was using him as leverage to get Thror or Thrain there, though when they were there, Thorin wasn't sure what would happen...

"I'm sorry, but have I threatened you before," He asked, confusion written all over his face. Thorin's head reared back, why would he want to know that?! One would think they would remember if they threatened someone, right?

"I make sure I don't deal with crooks," Thorin spat.

"Now I remember, you're the little brat that found Arei's journal," He snarled. "What was Thrain thinking, letting a dwarfling lead the front ranks," He asked, letting a sly smile cross his face.

"How-"

"Did I know how old you are," He finished. "Simple, I'm Gregory Smaug, Master Durin..." The name instantly clicked in Thorin's mind, raw hatred burned in his veins, Smaug had the nerve to smile further. "I can see that you hate me, that's good... That also means you fear me-"

"I do not fear you," Thorin growled, Smaug let the smile fade.

"You will, just you wait- Ah, Thror, it took you long enough..." Thorin turned around, the troops were parting to show Thror, Thrain, Frerin, and Dis running towards them, fury and terror on their faces.

"Smaug," Thrain growled.

"So nice to see you again, but I'm afraid we can't chat," Smaug said, Thrain snarled and stepped forward. "Uah-uh-Ah, one more step and he-" Smaug gestured to Thorin with the gun. "-Gets the wrong end of the gun..." To make the point even more clear, he stepped towards the prince, Thrain's eye burned with more fury.

"What do you want Smaug," Thror growled, standing beside Thrain. "We banished you years ago, we could just kill you now and be done with ye..."

"No you won't," He said defiantly. "You would shoot me, most likely in the chest, so as to make sure I die, but I would have a few moments to kill this little twerp- Ah, don't you move," He told Thorin, who had started to back up. He turned back to Thror. "So you won't kill me, else I kill your grandson." He waited a few moments to let the threat sink in. He rolled his shoulders and continued. "You owe me-"

"I owe you nothin'," Thror shouted. Smaug let the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

"Oh, but you do... While I was councilman, you signed a contract that made me king, should you become unfit to rule." Smaug stuck his empty hand into his suit coat and pulled out an old piece of paper. "You have become unfit to rule, seeing as you were huddled in the throne room when your kingdom- no, when your grandchildren were being attacked. I am giving you all twenty four hours to evacuate Erebor-"

"What would you do if we didn't," Frerin asked.

"That's simple, I eradicate you all," Smaug said. "Or, those who remain..." He looked right at Thorin. "Now then..." He grabbed Thorin, held him in a choker lock and shoved the gun into his rib cage, just under the armpit. Everyone lifted their weapons to aim at Smaug's head, he rammed the gun deeper into the prince's ribs.

"NO," Thrain shouted. "Lower your weapons!" The troops looked at him, but did as he ordered.

"I'm going to walk out of here, and you aren't going to follow us," Smaug said, backing towards the gaping hole in the rock. "I'm assuming you know what happens if you do... Now master Durin," He said, only to Thorin's ears. "You and I are going to have a nice little walk..."

The forest was ruined, with scorch marks everywhere, smoke still spewing from a few of the trees, though Myrin couldn't care about those, she was following a tall man with Thorin in a choke hold. Of course she lived, though, she honestly didn't know how she was still alive. She knew she fell, she started to get up, then she fell again, into a little cave thing-o-popper. She eventually climbed out, after all the fire had died down, how she didn't suffocate was another big question on her mind, but she was just happy to still be living!As she wandered through the forest towards the gate, she saw a man walk calmly into where the gate would have, should have been, but it was blown to bits, some parts of teh stone were still red hot from some sort of an explosion. Now that same man was dragging Thorin into the forest, almost to the exact spot she fell into the pit. Myrin was silently following them, though it was hard because the man kept looking behind. He obviously wasn't nervous, he almost looked smug... Thorin on the other hand kept panting, tripping-Well of course he was panting and tripping, you try walking with a loaded gun shoved into your ribs! Myrin reminded herself. The man stopped, pulled the gun away from Thorin and stepped back.

"You're still going to kill me, aren't you," Thorin asked trying to look at him. The Man smirked.

"No, I won't kill you, I'll let the forest..." The man grabbed the barrel of the gun, and hit Thorin's head with the but. Thorin crumpled forward, and fell into the pit, it had been covered with part of a tree, but Thorin fell through the branches. The man slid the gun into his suit jacket, wiped his hands together and walked deeper into the forest. After waiting a few minuets, Myrin walked towards the pit.

"Thorin," She hissed. No answer. Myrin circled around to the other side of the pit, where she had climbed out earlier, in hopes to climb down, but the trunk of the tree had smashed the vines and cliff face. Myrin stepped on the trunk of the tree, it creaked, she backed off.

Okay, run back to Erebor, wait here for a rescue party, or start screamin' help?! If I run back to Erebor, the tree might cave and squish 'im. If I wait here, that guy could come back and kill us both. If I start screaming, it's sure to happen! After a few more minuets of grumbling, arguing with herself, and kicking at the stumps, Myrin ran towards Erebor.

The second Smaug was sure to be out of earshot, Thrain was in an uproar.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SHOOT HIM, WHY DID YOU LET HIM TAKE MY SON?! MY SOOONNNN!" Frerin felt his heart drop, once again, he wasn't good enough to be recognized, as per usual... Shouldering his bow, Frerin went down the halls to clear his head while Balin talked sense to Thrain. Of course he was worried about Thorin! He just couldn't believe that Thror had signed a contract like that, so off he was to the library.

"FRERIN!" The blonde turned around to find a tornado of blonde curls racing towards him. Dis ran into his middle, knocking the air right out of him.

"Dis, what's wrong?!" Dis looked up at him and punched his stomach, hard.

"You ask me what's wrong when Thorin's been kidnapped, we've been kicked out of our home, and Myrin's missing! Have you been in your books again?!"

"No, I-"

"You don't think Granada actually gave Smaug-"

"No," Frerin said, covering Dis' mouth with his hand. "I don't, but I'm going to the library to find out..." Frerin took his hand off Dis' mouth and started to walk away, but he stopped and turned around. "If you would like, you-" Frerin didn't have to finish, Dis ran right up to him and tackled his arm. They walked to the royal archives, nobody was there at the moment, so they just went right to the contract's section.

"Wait, Smaug had-"

"He had one copy, I'm sure Thror would have another," Frerin said. Dis rolled her eyes.

"I do wish you would stop that," She said, looking in one of the flies.

"Stop what, OH if you mean the fact that you are asking plain and obvious questions, and- OUCH!" Dis had punched him, and was now frowning at him, and not the nice frown either.

"So what if they're plain and obvious? I've a lot on my mind!" Frerin was trying to top that with a snappy comeback, but he couldn't think of one.

"Fair enough..." Frerin returned to the files, which were alphabetized and dated. "Hey Dis, could you look in the Durin's day files from the year you were born?" Dis nodded and went over to the file cabinet, opened the drawer and burst out laughing, though it was a nervous laugh.

"What," Frerin asked, walking over.

"I found the file," Dis said holding up the beige folder. She opened it up and looked it over. "Signed four days before Durin's day- Oi! I was reading that!" Frerin looked over the folder, the one he snatched from Dis, and quietly cursed his Grandfather's foolishness. "What?" Dis came up and looked over Frerin's shoulder. Frerin slammed the folder shut and looked at his sister.

"Get packing," He growled. Dis' eyes grew wide as Frerin ran out the door and down the hall. Frerin felt his cheeks warming up, his ears start to burn. No, I'm not crying anymore! Frerin rounded a corner, and tumbled to the floor with someone under him.

"GET OFF ME YA GREA' BIG GULUMPHIN' OAF," She shouted. Frerin backed up, scrambling to get the folder and papers off the floor before she stepped on them. "WHERE'S THRAIN?!" Frerin looked up to tell her that he was most likely out searching for Thorin, out by the now ruined gate, but he stopped when he saw the mess of red hair covering the freckle covered face.

"MYRIN!" Frerin dropped the folder and tacked her, squeezing the very life out of her.

"AIR!"

"You're alive," Frerin shouted at the same time. Myrin didn't have a comeback for that, so she just tried wiggling out of Frerin's hug of death. Frerin frowned.

"Why do you want Thrain," He asked, looking at his friend.

"Thorin's at the bottom of a shaft and the tree's gonna break! So stop huggin' me and-" Frerin jumped to his feet, grabbed the folder again, hauled Myrin to her feet and took off running towards the front gate.

"Hello," Thorin called, but no one answered. His head throbbed where Smaug hit him, and he was on dirt, but that was all he could tell at the moment. Peeling his protesting eyes open, all he saw was more dirt.

Isn't that peachy, Thorin thought as he sat up. I'm stuck in a pit, and nobody knows where I am... He rubbed the bruise in his ribs; Good Durin that hurts! As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw a crumpled form near one side of the pit. Common sense, leave it alone, it could be a sleeping predator, and it will most likely attack. Moral sense, however, took over, Thorin rushed over to the crumpled form and rolled her over to look at her face.

"Oh Durin..." It was Myrin, her face was ashen, her eyes glazed. "No... No..." Tears came to his eyes as he lifted her shoulders, shaking them gently. A sudden knife was driven into Thorin's chest, by none other then Myrin. Her eyes went from glazed to a deep and evil shade of red, and they held a look of triumph.

"One down, two to go," A deep voice said, though it was coming out of Myrin's mouth.

Thorin woke up in a cold sweat, panting. That was awful, Thorin thought, drawing his knees to his chest. That's when he noticed he was on a cot, under a shock blanket.

"What?" The prince looked around, he was in a tent, it sounded like it was raining outside, and lots of people were outside. Thorin swung his legs off the cot and stood, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. The two window flaps of the tent were held open, from what Thorin could see through them was that it was dreadfully muddy, and the amount of people were much more then what he originally thought.

"Thorin?" He turned around, someone was coming in, and their pants were a mess! From mid shin down was covered in mud, and from mid shin up was wet. Dis walked through the door, her normal blonde bun in a super mess, and she didn't have a rain jacket on.

"Dis?! What happened to you?" Dis didn't answer, she just ran into Thorin's arms, tears or rain drops, running down her face. Thorin hugged her, wrapping the blanket around her too. They sat down on the cot as Dis calmed down, it took a good long while though.

"I was so worried Thorin," She said at last. "First they found you, then you wouldn't respond-"

"Shh, it's okay Dis. I'm not dead, and I don't plan to be for a good long while." They sat in awkward silence for a while. "Why am I in a tent?" Dis wouldn't meet his gaze, though Thorin thought he knew what happened...

Smaug, just like he promised, attacked Erebor and drove those who stayed to defend it out. Only Thror, Thrain, and their guards made it out alive... For the next thirty two years, every able bodied dwarf above the age of twenty, yet younger then two hundred went out in search of work, and a home. Nain did what he could from the Iron Hills, he even housed those who couldn't carry on past the Long Lake. Where they could, Frerin, Dis, Thorin and, Myrin worked together once they were old enough to work


	5. Kingship Isn't Easy

Thorin leaned back, watching his nephews reactions intently. Kili looked like he was in his own little world, while Fili looked like he might strangle something, mainly Thorin... The other dwarves had moved on to the parlor/front room or to the kitchen, so it was nearly silent in the dining room.

"How could you have not told us," Fili growled, shaking his head. Kili pulled his head out of the clouds when his brother spoke.

"It wasn't easy-"

"I can't even keep a good secret from Fili," Kili cut in, his ears turning red. "How in Mordor can you stomach lying to us!"

"Watch your tongue lad," Thorin growled back, giving him a glare. Cold silence fell between them again. Once more, Thorin wasn't sure what to say.

"I could barely stomach it," Thorin mumbled. "And I wasn't lying, you two never asked. When your father died, I was sure that you shouldn't be told until you were older-"

"How old Thorin," Fili quietly growled, his blue eyes turned to ice. "How many more years were you going to wait?" Thorin didn't respond, he knew they wouldn't like the answer.

"We didn't ask, because we thought we were normal," Kili added when Thorin didn't answer. "Nobody treated us differently. Nobody tried to kill us until Arei came, and we thought that was because you and Amad were sitting on the counsil." Thorin remained silent, not sure if he should continue or wait for their responce.

"Come on, Kee," Fili growled as he stood. "He's obviously not going to answer us," He added, sending Thorin a hard glare. Kili stood up after a disappointed look at his uncle and followed Fili to the kitchen. Thorin had half a mind to call after them, tell them to get their scrawny rear ends back at the table and let him explain, but he remembered how well that went last time he tried something like that. Growling at his own stubborn head, Thorin stood and walked down the hall. Balin was sitting on a bench, looking at his IPhone, probably reading the news. He saw Thorin approach and locked the screen, slipping it into his front pocket.

"Hello," He said as Thorin took the other bench. Thorin sighed/growled as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, rubbing his nose with his hands. "I take it the talk didn't go too well?" Thorin nodded, looking up at his old friend.

"They're too stubborn for their own good," He said with a blank face. The corner of Balin's mouth pulled up in amusement.

"I seem to remember two sharp young lads that were too stubborn for their own good too," Balin chuckled.

"I don't know what to do with them," Thorin said, glancing at the kitchen. "I try to tell them, they interrupt, I don't tell them, they blow up." Thorin looked at his friend, silently asking what he should do. Balin was like Thorin's uncle he never had, giving him advice anytime he needed it. Balin stroked his beard as he thought, staring blankly at the wall above Thorin. Thorin always got himself into these types of problems; Not telling others what they should be told. Balin sighed as he leaned forward.

"Just tell them straight Thorin," Balin advised as he took off his glasses and slid them into his shirt pocket. Thorin grumbled.

"How am I supposed to when they interrupt me ever other second?!"

"Come now, just let them cool down and I'm sure they'll understand," Balin assured. Thorin frowned and looked down the hall, just in time to see their Host stomp down the hall. Balin sighed again.

"It appears that we've lost our burglar..." Thorin huffed, he figured the hobbit wouldn't do it. "Probably for the best," Balin added, letting a hint of anger touch his voice. "The odds were always against us... After all, what are we? Merchants... Miners..." Balin looked down the hall, seeing Bombur and Bifur sampling some biscuit, where they found them he had no idea. "Tinkers, toy makers..." Balin shook his head and turned back to face Thorin. "Hardly a group worth a bar fight..." Thorin smirked.

"I know a few who've lasted through much more then a bar fight," Thorin said through the smirk. Balin frowned at him.

"It's been over fifty years Thorin... a few of us aren't even fit for a trip like this!"

"I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills," Thorin growled, not liking the tone in Balin's voice, it was too doubtful for his taste. "Do you want to know why? Because when I asked, they answered. These 'merchants' have more integrity with them then anyone from the Iron Hills." Balin scoffed and looked down the hall again, making sure nobody was listening.

"You don't have to do this," Balin said, looking Thorin in the eye. "You have a choice," Balin added when Thorin gave him a look of confusion. "Look at what you've done in Ered Luin! You found us a home, helped the dwarves get their feet under them again. Isn't that worth more then all the money in Erebor?" Thorin frowned as he shook his head.

"Why would my grandfather and father keep this if they didn't want us to reclaim Erebor," Thorin asked, pulling the key out of his pocket and turning it over in his hand. Thorin looked up at his friend, his face determined. "There is no choice Balin, not for me..." Balin nodded his head, understanding why Thorin felt he had to do this impossible task.

"Then we're with you laddie," He promised.

"Where am I again," Myrin asked as she looked around. There was a creek to her left, and a hill with a large tree on it to her right. A see through map popped up on the visor in front of her, a red blinking dot showed where she was.

"Near Over Hill Street, in the Suburbia of The Shire," Her helmet beeped at her, over the sound of her music. A purple ribbon popped up on the gray street. "Your targets are in 221 Bag End Street, twenty miles to the south," It added. Myrin took her foot of the ground and revved her motorbike, racing down the street. Her lower back ached from the fast ride to the Shire, her head pounded from lack of sleep, but she had to find them.

"LOOK OUT!" The helmet yelled at her. Myrin pulled her head out of her thoughts and swerved away from the trashcan that had rolled into the middle of the street.

"I thought hobbits took better care of their things," Myrin said as she zoomed away.

"I wouldn't know," Her helmet beeped at her.

"I wasn't talking to you..." Myrin almost wished she hadn't programmed her helmet to talk back to everything she said, it was fun at times, but at times like now, it was a pain in the neck. Twenty minuets later, after nearly running over a few domestic animals, Myrin pulled up to a nice house. It was a raised house, built into the hill behind it a ways, a would be blooming garden, if it wasn't night time, and paving stones leading up to the house.

"Lovely house," Myrin commented as she set her helmet on the seat, strapping it in. Popping her ear buds into her ears and turning on her music again, Myrin walked through the little wooden gate and bounced up the stairs to the beat. Knocking on the door, she waited for the gentleman of the house to answer the door. He sure is taking his time, She thought as she pounded on the door again. Another few minuets past and Myrin thought that they had gone to bed, seeing as it was almost twelve thirty, but the door opened up. A hobbit with red curls looked at her, sleep heavy in his eyes.

"Do you realize what time it is," He asked.

"I do apologize, but I'm afraid you have some friends of mine over, and I desperately need them back home," She explained, wringing her wrists. The hobbit frowned at her, Myrin assumed it was because he was debating whether or not to tell her about the dwarves invading his home or not. One of his eyes pinched and he straightened, clenching the hand that wasn't hanging on the door into a fist.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," He said, his jaw clenched tightly, almost as if he was daring her to argue. Myrin smirked and drew her hand behind her back, the Hobbit's eyes grew wide.

"Oh, I believe you do..." Myrin pulled her phone out and text something on her phone behind her back, several dangerous beeps sounded from in the house, the hobbit turned on the ball of his foot to stare into the parlor, his eyes still very wide. Myrin shoved on the door a little more, and the hobbit fell pot over tea kettle. She started to bend over to help him to his feet, but she saw all thirteen coats hanging on the wall pegs, and her anger past the boiling point. She marched past the hobbit, who was getting to his own feet just fine, and stomped into the front room. A couch was sitting by the far wall, in front of a window, two armchairs were sitting in front of that, turned towards the couch, the fireplace behind them, and every spare spot was taken by a sleeping dwarf. Fili and Kili took the two cushion/recliner seats on the couch, while Thorin took the floor in front of them, Balin had one of the armchairs, while Oin had the other, their brothers at their feet or to their side, while the Ri's and the Ur's were taking up the walk way between the three seats. Myrin took a deep breath and bellowed.

"YOU IDIOT OF A KING," Is what she said, Thorin shot straight up to hit his head on the underside of Kili's recliner. "DO YOU REALIZE HOW HARD IT IS TO KEEP YOU ALIVE WHEN YOU'RE IN MY EYE SIGHT?! I LET YOU TAKE THE HUNTING TRIP BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T BE GETTING INTO ANYTHING DANGEROUS! NOW I HEAR OF THAT PRICE ON YOUR HEAD, WELL THAT'S IT! AND WHAT IN DURIN'S NAME WERE YOU THINKING OF WHEN YOU BROUGHT FILI AND KILI ALONG?!" Thorin had stood at this point and Myrin was blaring up at him, throwing her hands this way and that, her face redder then an apple. The other dwarves were up, and now trying to get back to sleep, seeing as it was just Myrin. Gandalf had yet to emerge from the room Bilbo had lent him.

"What do you mean there's a price on his head?" Fili asked, shutting the recliner and standing, tossing his blanket onto his seat.

"Those cursed ORCs have got it out for him, Laddie," Balin explained, setting the blanket he was using to the side. Dwalin was watching with a blank stare as the two friends fought, both trying to explain their side, and why the other was wrong.

"You mean that someone wants Uncle dead," Kili asked. He stood up and stepped around his Uncle and mother's best friend avoiding Myrin's needle like fingernails.

"Someone's wanted him dead for a long time lad," Dwalin said, leaning back and shutting his eyes, trying to get more sleep. Gandalf finally came around the corner, staff in hand, and he looked thoroughly pissed that someone ruined his sleep. He saw the new invader of the house and his frown turned upside down.

"Good Evening Myrin, you are late," He said. She turned to him and narrowed her eyes further.

"Gandalf..." Their conversation continued in elvish, Myrin stepped away from Thorin and stood in front of Gandalf, her rage turned to the old ISITARI. He must the one behind this, Myrin thought. She didn't just think, she knew he was behind it!

"Who is that," Bilbo asked from the doorway.

"That's Myrin Flamebird," Kili said, rubbing the back of his head.

"She's a bit fiery," Fili added. Bilbo gave him a 'no duh' face as she shouted something loudly in Sindarin, resulting in Gandalf's frown at her. "How did she know we were here," Fili asked, stroking his beard. Kili shrugged as Myrin turned around to talk to Thorin, who was standing behind her, trying to figure out what they were saying.

"Well, what do you say," She asked, staring up at him.

"About what," He asked, folding his arms and squinting at her.

"Me coming with-"

"No," Thorin said, interrupting her. She looked hurt, while Thorin kept a stern face.

"But-"

"No, Myrin, that's final," He said, flopping back down on the couch.

"Then I'll tell Dis," She threatened, loosing the kicked puppy look and replacing it with a snarling bear.

" 'Bout what?"

"That you're going to Erebor," She growled, Thorin narrowed his eyes at her.

"You wouldn't," He growled back. The look of triumph crossed her face, along with a defiant smirk. Thorin frowned as he grumbled out a possible yes, it was hard to tell what he said, as it was part cursing, part Khuzdul, and part agreement. Myrin gave a triumphant smile as she clapped her hands together, looking around the room.

"So, who's the burglar," She asked. Fili pointed back at Bilbo, who wasn't really paying attention. Myrin couldn't help but laugh.

"You're a burglar?!" Bilbo frowned.

"I haven't stolen a thing in my life," Bilbo defended, realizing he was being mocked. Again... But sleep tugged at his head and muddled his thoughts, so he misunderstood they way of her mocking.

"Agreed, it looks like you haven't even fingered your mother's coins," Myrin laughed back. Bilbo frowned further, nobody insults a Took, and that blasted Took side was taking a stand again. And NOBODY insults a Took's mother. While the Hobbit didn't make a sound, he started planning a way to redeem his mother's name...

Everyone wandered back to bed, Bilbo had opened up another guest bedroom for Myrin, and Thorin wasn't going to give up his spot on the couch. No way, no how, he refused to budge, so Fili and Kili took up the floor. That's how Fili got the nice looking goose egg when Dwalin woke him up. Fili sat up and smacked the underside of the recliner, and let me tell you, when Fili does anything, he does it 110%, so when he shot upright, he shot upright! So he got a nice looking goose egg, along with keys to Dwalin's hummer, so he could take the rental back. So while Dwalin went back to sleep, Fili and Kili took the little Chevy Charger back to the rental place, via tow strap.

Myrin was up at that point, thanks to Fili's yelp of pain, and she couldn't get back to sleep. So she decided to make some food. So that's where she was presently, looking through Bilbo's cupboards for food items. She had her phone out on the counter, a pancake recipe pulled up. She whipped up the batter quickly, and had the first breakfast food in the frying pan, when someone grabbed her middle and turned her around, it was Thorin. Before she could smack him for scaring her, he kissed her as he pulled her close.

"Good Morning," He said when he pulled away. Myrin rested her head on his shoulder, hugging his neck and forgetting to smack him.

"Good Morning..." Thorin pulled away from her hug and looked at the goop in the frying pan.

"What's that?"

"Purple pancakes," Myrin said with a goofy smile. Someone from the other room shifted in their sleep, Myrin went back to cooking while Thorin stood by her side, one arm looped casually around her waist.

"You don't have your ear-buds in, you okay," He asked, noticing the lack of music near her head. Myrin could not stand the quiet, she had to have something playing otherwise she would jump at e little noises. Sometimes the sound pouring out of her earbuds was music, but most of the time it was jut ambiance.

"Just fine, I figured the snoring would work," She said with a smirk as she flipped the first pancake. "It has so far!" She added as the purple food landed in the hot skillet.

A few hours later, everyone but the hobbit was up, and the boys were back from the rental place. Gandalf was going around handing everyone a SIM card, and a credit card, for no apparent reason.

"What are these for," Thorin asked, holding them up.

"So that we are not traced, and I would advise you not to contact others from Ered Luin," Gandalf explained as he put the spares in his wallet.

"So, no talking to our spouses," Gloin asked, a worried look in his eye. Bombur had a similar look, he did after all have many children who were still growing, and he didn't want to miss anything.

"Well, you may talk to them, but I would not advise it," Gandalf said again.

"What he means is, if you love them, you won't talk to them frequently," Myrin clarified, scrolling through her music on her phone. "Once in a while calls are fine, though don't call more then twice a week, just to be on the super safe side."

"Why," Dori asked from the other room. That dwarf had to have an owl's hearing!

"Because ORCs track every phone," Gandalf explained. "I understand that you told everyone in Ered Luin you were going on a hunting trip to the Iron Hills?" Thorin nodded as he set the SIM card into his phone.

"Good call, it's better that they don't know what happens these next few months..." A cold silence fell in the hobbit's house for a few minuets, until Kili cleared his throat.

"What are we going to do about the Hobbit," He asked, glancing towards the locked door housing the sleeping host. Gandalf smirked as he sat down in his armchair and leaned his staff up against his leg.

"Leave that to me," He said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You all meet at the Green Dragon Inn, and wait until Eleven before you leave, I will be a little late, but your burglar will be there..."

((Hey y'all! Here's the next chapter, and please review! I love your feedback, and WANT to hear from y'all! If there's anything you don't understand, please tell me so I can fix it! Stay awesome!))


	6. Ghosts

Bilbo woke up to a pounding headache, and silence.

"Oh, good cast-iron pots that hurts," Bilbo moaned, sitting up on his down bed. He wondered why his head might hurt, he wasn't one to drink... Bilbo couldn't remember what happened last night, so he got out of bed, got dressed, for some reason he was in his day clothes, went outside and rode on his green bicycle to the Bywater Walmart. Unfortunately, his vacation was over...

The day was sharp and brisk, though Bilbo continued to pedal down the steep hill behind the Walmart. It had rained during the night, and it was still drizzling. For some strange reason, many, many, hobbits were there at the shop, stocking up their rain gear, food storage, and other things of that sort. It seemed, Bilbo later found out, that there was a rumor going around that peace times might change to war time, because of something happening far over east. Bilbo shrugged it off as another conspiracy theory and continued to help the customers, until his breakfast break. Bilbo grabbed a sprite from the vending machine, a baker lady at the Deli gave Bilbo a sandwich and he proceeded to the break room. The Hobbit sat there, eating his beaver mustard and black ham sandwich, when two Dwarves came in, they must have been newbies, because Bilbo failed to recognize them. Both of their name tags said "Mr Durin" though they looked nothing alike. Bilbo at first thought they were humans, because they were tall, but after looking at their feet to find sturdy boots, and the fact that their beards were thicker then the average human, he deemed them dwarves. He then remembered what happened the previous night, and why his head pounded so much that morning. He continued to eat his food in silence as the two sat down and started to talk in a rough language, though, his face was in a frown.

Maybe it was The Valar's will, but Bilbo Baggins could understand what the two dwarves were saying, it reminded him of a translator speaking over the translated person's voice. Their voices were baritone.

"Did you hear," The taller asked. He was a blonde haired Dwarf, with dark brown eyes, the other had dark brown hair and brown eyes too.

"Hear what?"

"Some dwarves are marching to Erebor," The first said, sitting in the chair backwards. Bilbo's mouth pinched up in disgust. He thought it was supposed to be top secret!

"Those idiots, don't they know about Mr Smaug-"

"Of course they do, but what choice do they have," The Blonde growled. That sparked Bilbo's interest as he sipped his sprite.

"Okay, I get it," The brunette said, his hands motioning for his friend to stop before he went into a long winded discussion. "Do you remember what his name was again?" He rubbed his beard as he thought, the blonde squinted as he thought, his hands tapping his knees under the table.

"Thorin, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, he's a good strong man, 'course, he's had to be with what he's been through. Loosing his grandfather to a terrorist group, then not even a decade later, loosing his father to the same group, the same man even... Then taking on all that responsibility before he was even of age..." Bilbo shuttered then, he remembered loosing his parents, he assumed loosing a respected king would be something similar to that. Bilbo suddenly couldn't finish his sandwich...

"Did you hear that his family was nearly killed," The brunette asked, leaning on the table. The Blonde's eyes widened.

"You mean his nephews, and sister were nearly-"

"Put out to pasture," The Brown said with a brisk nod. "Maybe that's why he's going. Erebor's a safe strong hold, it would be a perfect place keep people safe." Silence filled the room for a moment or two before the blonde pounded on the table, leaning towards his companion with a confident smile.

"That king has to be the best out there, risking his own life to keep his family safe, he'll make us dwarves prosperous again too, when he gets Erebor back!" The brown shook his head again.

"You and your mind for gold-"

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," Bilbo said, standing and turning towards him. "But I couldn't help but over hear. You say this, Thorin is very nice and all, but I've met him. He's nothing but a-"

"Balrog," The Blonde asked, his lip pulling up in a smirk. Bilbo pinched his mouth again, but nodded.

"To put it bluntly, yes." Both of them chuckled, glanced at each other and looked back to Bilbo.

"Mr Baggins, have you ever heard of a geode?" The Brown asked. Bilbo shook his head. "A geode is a rock, with a beautiful crystal in the center. I will liken Thorin to a geode. He is the biggest jerk I have ever had the displeasure to meet, until I got to know him better. Then his inner crystal showed."

"Though, it takes a good long while to crack that ugly rock on the outside," The Blonde added. Bilbo stared at them, not believing a lick of what they said.

"He's a cold king on the outside because it's his defense, Master Baggins," The Blonde explained further. "When he became king, Thorin was barely of age. Others wanted to let the Council take charge until Thorin became of age, but he didn't want that. When he opted to relocate to the Blue Mountains, the trip was harsh on everyone. For the dwarves making the trip, their last shred of hope riding on surviving to the Blue Mountains, and to see their king falter, or to see him in a weakened state, such as mourning for his father-"

"Why would that be weak," Bilbo growled. "Everyone should have a chance to mourn their loved ones!"

"He couldn't, not for a good long while after he had died, and after the dwarves had settled, there was just too much to do," The Blonde explained. "Anyways, to see their last hope weeping for an unknown reason, it would have destroyed everything Thror and Thrain had worked for. So he bottled up his emotions, and to this day, I haven't seen him let them out-"

"Except towards his nephews and sister," The Brown added. The other nodded as Bilbo stared at the two, weren't dwarves very secretive about their affairs? And why were these two so chummy with him all of the sudden? The Blonde smiled again.

"So you see, Thorin is going back to Erebor, risking his life in doing so, to keep his people safe. Honestly, if I had a chance to go with him, I wouldn't hesitate for a second!" The hobbit felt his eye brow raise.

"Why's that," Bilbo asked. "The chance of being burned alive would opt me out..."

"Because it's the right thing to do," The blonde said, loosing his smile and staring at Bilbo, seeming to pierce right into his soul. Bilbo felt suddenly dizzy, his hand went to his forehead and he stumbled backwards, starting to fall, but instead of hitting the floor, he continued to fall, ever fall-

Bilbo pulled his head off the table with a yelp, his sandwich plate was to his right, the near empty bottle of soda to his left, the hobbit looked around the break room, those two dwarves were still there, but he couldn't understand them anymore, their rough speech no longer understandable, though he did wish he knew what they were saying. Bilbo pried his hind quarters off the seat and ran from the room, heading towards the management offices. Surely they could give him a year or two of leave...

The door slammed shut behind him, the two dwarves looked back, having stopped talking. The brunette looked at his friend, his lips pinched together in worry.

"Are you sure it will work Frerin," He asked. Frerin pinched his own lips as he thought.

"Well, even if it only gets him to his home, Gandalf will take it from there. You ready to go," He asked, taking off the blue vest and hanging it on the chair, it changed to a brown jacket and he slipped that on.

"Ready as I'll ever be," He growled, setting his own vest, it changed to an army green jacket, he slipped that on too. "Though I can say I dread seeing any one of them in harm's way, I can also say I can't wait to see my sons..." Frerin smiled.

"With any luck, Rown, nobody will be hurt."

Bilbo had gotten the leave for a year, he lied to get it, he did feel awful lying to his boss, and as he rode his bike home, he felt that dread grow, along with doubt. When he left the break room, he was sure that he would join their Mission, but now he wasn't so sure. He was worried about his house, who would take care of it and his garden, what should happen if he died, though he didn't dwell on that particular though very long.

I'll just have a snack to clear my head, Bilbo thought, turning into his driveway. He stepped off, leaned his bike against the house and walked into his humble abode, but not before checking to see if there was a mark on his door. If there was, it must have been paper or something of that sort, because there was nothing there now! Bilbo went straight to his second larder and pulled out a few oatmeal cream pies, and another bottle of sprite, he could feel himself start to shake, he blamed low blood sugar. He had just sat down with a plate of cream pies and a good book when his door flew open. In the door way stood none other then Gandalf.

"My dear fellow, whenever are you going to come," He shouted, walking toward the flustered hobbit. "What about an early start? And look at you, you're sitting here having breakfast, or whatever you call it, half past ten! They had to leave you a message because they couldn't wait!"

"What message," He asked.

"Great Elephants, you are not yourself this morning," Gandalf shouted, walking over to Bilbo's phone. He pointed to the answering system which was blinking. Gandalf pressed a button and the speaker came on.

"Good Morning, Master Baggins," Balin's voice said. "Thank you so very much for being our host last night, your cooking was most excellent! You failed to sign the contract last night, so it's left under the clock on the mantel," Gandalf strode over and yanked it out from underneath, a near frown on his face, "Because we thought it was unnecessary to wake you, we have proceeded to the Green Dragon Inn, in Bywater, we will be leaving at Eleven hundred hours sharp, and we hope that you will be punctual. Thank you again for your time-" Balin's voice cut out abruptly, Gandalf had gone to the entry way closet for Bilbo's coat, which was now in the crook of his arm.

"That leaves you ten minuets, if you leave now," Gandalf said, shoving the coat onto Bilbo's arms.

"But-"

"No time for it!"

"But-"

"No time for that either! Off you go!" And with that, Bilbo Baggins was shoved out the door. Deeming that was his answer to his pondering earlier that morning, he got on his bike again, and sped towards Bywater, the contract in his innermost pocket of his coat.

They did as Gandalf said, wait at the Green Dragon Inn until Eleven, but neither person showed up. Thorin was starting to get impatient, and he was more so grumpy then usual, blame the lack of breakfast if you will. Currently, the Exiled King was leaning against the hood of his suburban, chewing on the inside of his cheek, his arms folded across his chest, ankles crossed as he watched the road beyond the parking lot for a Silver Ferrari or a bike of some sort. Fili and Kili were in the suburban with Ori, chatting about Pokemon of all things.

Well, it wasn't eleven as of yet, it was ten forty five, but if Thorin knew hobbits, they liked to be ahead of schedule. Thorin's phone beeped, so he looked at it. The text was from Balin, wondering if he was hungry. Thorin rolled his eyes and looked around the lot. The hotel had kicked them out that morning, for some odd reason, so everything was in the back of Bombur's large white van, while the Dwarves who weren't 'dying of heat' as Kili put it, were mulling around the lot. Thorin spotted Balin, who was staring back, blank faced. Thorin let his eyes narrow as he lifted his arms up, palms faced upwards as if to say, "What do you think?" Balin smirked and yelled something to Dwalin, who was leaning on the driver's door. The wise dwarf opened up another door and slid into the shot gun seat, while Dwalin turned the engine on, the roar it gave made Dwalin flash a bright smile. The King's phone beeped again, once more it was from Balin.

The usual?

Yes sir, extra hot sauce.

The hummer roared out of the lot, Dwalin chuckled once they were out of sight from the Hotel.

"What," Balin asked.

"Just you," He said with a shake of his head. Balin frowned and turned towards Dwalin a little more.

"What about me," He asked. Dwalin smirked, but stayed silent. Balin let his frown deepen to a stink eye, and Dwalin gave in.

"Just, I mean, why would you ask Thorin if he was hungry," Dwalin said, slapping the steering wheel. "He's always hungry." Balin smirked. "It must be your age, forgetting things- OUCH!" Dwalin rubbed the spot on his shoulder where Balin had smacked him.

"Who's the one that forgot his toothbrush," Balin asked, letting a hint of bemusement cross his voice. Dwalin didn't answer, he just continued to rub his shoulder, making a mental note to never insult Balin's age again, though he most likely wouldn't remember it...

"Thank you, have a fantastic day," The overly cheery Employee said as he shut the window. His bright smile vanished with a roll of his eyes as the drive through window shut. Dwalin snorted as he handed the hot taco box to Balin.

"Isn't he cheery," He growled, shifting the hummer back into drive. The other dwarf took the box and set it with the other food sitting on his feet.

"If it wasn't for that card, I would be broke," Balin said, staring at the bottom of the receipt, ignoring Dwalin's comment. He held up the paper to Dwalin. "Look at that, nearly four hundred! What is the world coming to?!" Dwalin shrugged as he nabbed a straw out of one of the bags, a small but bright smile crossing his face. Balin continued to ramble on about how the world had changed, and how back in his day, which wasn't very long before Dwalin's day, things were better. Dwalin let the hummer roll along as he took a small end off his straw wrapper and put it to his lips, taking a deep breath. Balin glanced at his younger brother, just in time to see his wonderful little brother take that critical breath.

"DWALIN-" The straw hit it's mark, and Balin wouldn't have minded, if it weren't for that little surprise Dwalin gave with the straw. The surprise dribbled down Balin's nose, and that was the final straw, quite literally. He yelled in fury, said a few things that made even Dwalin shocked, and tackled his brother, while the car was still driving. Dwalin, in an attempt to press on the brake before the hummer ran into someone, stomped on the gas! The hummer roared forward, Dwalin smacked Balin away, took hold of the steering wheel again, and stomped on the brake, but not before he ran into someone on a bike.

Silence filled the car, the two brothers sat there for a moment, but after that moment, Dwalin shifted to park and jumped out, looking around the street. Nobody was out and about, and the hobbit he had hit was out cold under his front bumper, his green street bike trashed beyond repair. The helmet was split, but still on his head, Dwalin growled and picked him up, throwing him into the back seat of the hummer like a sack of potatoes, then tossed the ruined bike away.

"This is your fault I hope you know," Dwalin growled as he slid back into the car. As Balin grumbled something inaudible, Dwalin pulled out of the lot and sped down the road, heading back towards the hotel. The Hospital was right next to it, hopefully they weren't too busy.

The drive back was silent, apart from the screech of the brakes and the road noise. Dwalin grumbled to himself as Balin turned on the radio, gentle background noise filled the vehicle. Eery few moments, Balin or Dwalin would look back at their passenger, making sure he wasn't stuck between the seat and console. About four minuets from the hotel, their passenger finally woke up

"Oh, Bushels and Thistles, that hurts," The hobbit moaned. The helmet fell onto the floor behind the console and as he sat up, the hobbit gulped.

"Come here, laddie, let me see your head," Balin said, leaning back and waving for the hobbit to lean forward. He turned his legs and did as Balin instructed.

"I'm no doctor, but you seem fine," Balin said after a look at the hobbit's forehead and through his curls. "Where did you put the ibuprofen?"

"It's in the console," Dwalin said, pointing towards it. As Balin rifled through it, Dwalin looked back at his hitch hiker. He seemed familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it...

"This should do the trick laddie," Balin said, handing him the bottle and a water bottle. The Hobbit took it with slight hesitation.

"Was that a gun in there," He stuttered, pointing at the console. Dwalin narrowed his eyes, pulled to one side of the road, gently pressed on the brakes and turned around, glaring at the Hobbit.

"So what if it is," He asked. Something clicked in The Hobbit's mind.

"Oh, Thistles!" The Hobbit climbed into the back seat, and once he was righted again, glared at the two dwarves. "First you invade my home, now you nearly kill me with your... car! Will you bothersome dwarves ever leave me be?!" Dwalin's mind finally clicked, it was their burglar he had ran over! Balin saw the realization on Dwalin's face and chuckled to himself as his brother turned back around and continued down the road. Dwalin easily forgot things, such as faces to names, Balin blamed a childhood accident for his brother's forgetfulness, though Dwalin was always spot on when it came to important matters.

The Hummer pulled into the hotel parking lot, Bilbo jumped out before the car had even stopped moving. He was plenty through with these obviously mad dwarves, the only reason he had been on his bike to meet them was because Gandalf shoved him out the door before he could even say 'No'!

"Glad to see that you could join us, Master Baggins," Gloin shouted from the back of a large white van with colored scribbles all over the sides. "Where's your luggage?" He added as he jumped out.

"Back at my house, that blasted fiend of your's sent me running before I even had a chance to blow my nose," Bilbo growled. Gloin chuckled as Bilbo's stomach growled. "Much less have Elevensies," He added quietly.

"Where's the food," Bombur asked, looking up from where a large amount of bags were, towards the back of the van that Gloin had jumped out of.

"Over here," Dwalin said, holding up a few bags from Taco Bell.

Once the food was handed out, along with some cash from betting wins, Bilbo was assigned to ride with Dori, in the little mini van that looked like it was one pot hole away from being scrapped to the junk yard. Nori sat up front, Dori drove, and Bilbo sat in the back with Ori, Oin and Gloin. The first four minuets out of the parking lot were fine, but then Nori started to shout at Dori for something in a rough language. Then Gloin shouted loudly, and it thankfully ended the argument, but then Oin shouted something back, as if he couldn't hear what was shrieked. Thankfully, Bilbo was seated in the back seat with Ori, so the noise wasn't quite as deafening...

"Get me out of that mad house," Bilbo shouted when they stopped four hours down the road from the hotel, Bilbo was overly glad for the limited gas tank in the van! Bilbo tried to talk with each of them, but it always turned into a yelling fest one way or another. One example went like this; Bilbo telling an innocent joke, then Nori smirked and said something in Khuzdul, (that's what Ori told Bilbo it was called) Gloin started laughing hysterically, Dori moved to hit Nori, Oin shouted that he couldn't/didn't hear it, and they would nearly ran into the guard rail! Then everyone shouted at Dori, he screamed back it was Nori's fault, he denied it, and then Oin thumped them all on the back of the head for being so rude. Another instance was when the dwarves would try and talk with the poor hobbit, then Dori or Gloin interrupted said and gave a long round about story about their own experiences with either Nori, Ori or this Gimli fellow who stayed behind in Ered Luin. Who ever wasn't telling the story, or Nori if he didn't have his head phones in, would complain about getting to the point, and then the Dwarf would criticize the interrupter and restart the story. There was more noise in that little van over the past four hours then Bilbo had heard in all his years at Walmart! Thankfully, the gas station was a meeting point, so the other vehicles were there. Including Gandalf's silver Ferrari, said owner was leaned up against the driver's door, smoking his pipe.

"What is it Master Boggins," Kili asked. He was sitting on the curb next to Fili.

"Those four are worse then the Sackville-Baggins," Bilbo growled in a hushed tone. "Constantly bickering and fighting, yelling and screaming! I will not travel with them again."

"You just might have to, Master Baggins," Fili said. "Gandalf has to travel elsewhere for a while, don't know when he'll be back-" A loud roar of a motor bike interrupted Fili as Myrin pulled into the gas station. She pulled up next to Gandalf, took her helmet off, threw the keys in the helmet and traded her helmet for Gandalf's keys.

"You're letting her drive your Ferrari," Bilbo asked. He knew how attached Gandalf was to his cars through the magazines that had interviewed him.

"She's a great driver, why shouldn't she," Gandalf asked, sitting on the motor bike's seat and strapping on the helmet. "Oh, and Bilbo, your things are in the trunk," Gandalf added before he sped away. Myrin smirked.

"Don't worry hobbit, I'm a fairly good driver... Most of the time..." Bilbo wasn't sure he liked the tone in her voice, but before he could voice any sort of opposition, he was shoved into the shot gun seat of the Ferrari. Myrin slid into the driver's seat, turning the engine over as she shut the door.

"What sort of music do ya like, Hobbit," she asked, throwing her purse under the radio. Bilbo was a little taken back, he wasn't expecting that. Myrin glanced over at him as she pulled the seat belt over her lap. "Are you gonna sit there looking like a guppy fish or are ya gonna speak up?" Bilbo glanced around, wondering if this was some sort of test. Myrin rolled her eyes, leaning on the steering wheel.

"It's not a trick question Hobbit," she said gently. The other cars were pulling out of the lot, so Myrin pried herself off the steering wheel and shifted out of park and into reverse. Bilbo looked out the window, only now realizing the were at Buck's Station.

Once onto the four lane highway, Myrin cleared her throat and glanced at Bilbo again."Sorry if I startled you. Last night, I mean." The Hobbit felt his brows raise quite a bit, not expecting an apology, especially from a dwarrow. He turned away from the window, back to the driver.

"Why did you do that, anyhow," he asked, feeling a little hurt. Myrin smirked as she chuckled.

"What, the part where I scared you, or-"

"Yeah, that part."

"Well..." Myrin paused for a few moments, gatherinbg her thoughts as her smirk turned into a grin. She rubbed the worn spot on the wheel in front of her, skillfully weaving in and out of traffic. "I wasn't quite sure what you were," she said at last. The Hobbit's head reared back, being unsure of what she meant. "I knew that everyone was there, because of a nifty little app, and I wasn't sure if you were a danger to them, or if they had invaded."

"A danger to them," Bilbo asked in disbelief. "Ma'am, I am only a danger to someone if they ruin my doilies, pottery, or insult the family name." Myrin burst out laughing, she snorted and slapped the wheel, her eyes tearing up because of her mirth.

"I would've though' yer garden would be on tha' list," she said, wiping a few tears away with the back of her hand. Bilbo frowned again.

"It is on my list, it's just that-" Mr Baggins was interrupted as a large white van, that was not Bombur's, nearly drove the Ferrari into the median. Bilbo's window shattered, along with the back window and the right side mirror was ripped off.

"Keep yer head low," Myrin shouted, pressing the pedal to the floor, pushing e already fetal positioned hobbit farther into his seat and swerving between the semi truck in front of them and the van beside them, which was still trying to drive them into the dirt. Metal met metal as the semi trailer met the left side of the Ferrari, it sent chills up both their spines. They finally broke free of the vehicle samwich, and nearly drove into the road's shoulder. Once the car was facing the correct way, Bilbo risked pulling his head out of his lap and taking in the situation. Two more vehicles had surrounded them, both were just like the first, a white van with tinted windows.

"Why aren't you getting out of here," Bilbo shouted, turning to Myrin. She sat with r hands plastered to the wheel, her face white and blank. Not a slight hint of emotion was displayed on her face, besides the lack of color in her cheeks.

"Because we can't," she said, her voice also emotionless. She jerked her head forwards, beyond the front of the semi truck, to where the battered white van that first attacked was. The other two were beside and behind them, boxing them in. The battered van's backside was open, a bald, albino man sat in the back, something hefted over his shoulder. Bilbo's eyes widened, he started to tremble as the Albino grinned evilly, his hand moving to the trigger. The frantic hobbit looked out the broken window, finding that they were over the Brandywine River.

"There has to be something we can do," Bilbo shouted, turning back in his seat and removing the belt that held him there. A loud VOOOWM noise filled his head as a projectile was launched from the back of the battered van, and time slowed down. Myrin turned to face him as the missal raced towards them. Tears stained her face, and she looked so frightened. She seemed like a tiny child at that moment. Bilbo could feel his soul being squoze as his gaze met her's. Something wasn't right, Bilbo could feel it. As the projectile hit the hood of the Ferrari, Bilbo woke up.

Drool was on his sleeve, which was against the window, a suitable pillow for his head. His heart beat in his chest, and every sense he had was screaming at him to be alert. He started to take it in, slowly. It was dark out, after six in the afternoon, and he was indeed in the Ferrari. They had yet to pass any sort of landmarked, such as the end of Hobbiton and the beginning of Breeland, but they were nearing it.

"Hey hobbit, you awake yet," the driver called, smacking Bilbo's thigh with the back of their hand. The slap it's self would have stung, but the dream he had awoken from made his skin sting. He hissed quietly, pulling his head up as pain shot through his neck. His ears started to pick up a rhythmic thrumming, he soon remembered the sound as music.

"How long have I been out," he asked, gently raising his hands above his head and stretching.

"Oh, since about four," Myrin hummed, tilting her head one way, then the other, trying to relieve the kink that had developed. Bilbo rubbed the top of his head, removing the flat from the window.

"Where we at?"

"Oh... About forty minuets from our stop. Don't worry, we'll get dinner there too." Bilbo's stomach grumbled at the thought of food, but the hobbit surprisingly wasn't in the mood.


	7. Sickness At It's Best

The next two weeks was simply terrible. Everyone's hind quarters were so sore, when they stood to pump fuel, or go and relieve themselves, or to get everything into the hotel they were staying at, one was lucky if they didn't fall over when they took the first step, even after waiting a good minuet and a half to resume circulation in their legs. Bilbo grabbed his bag off the sidewalk and slung it over his shoulder, walking towards Bombur's van with a large yawn.

"Tell me about it," Kíli grumbled, grabbing his own duffle and walking along side Bilbo. It was before dawn, and while everyone was grateful for the speedy time they had made, and for the two days rest at the hotel, but nobody wants to get up before dawn. Bombur and Bifur took the bags and loaded them up in the back, then everyone assembled into their respected assigned seats for the trip. Bilbo was in the suburban with Fíli, Kíli and Ori, Thorin was driving, Dori's mini van had broken down so those four, along with Bombur, Bifur, Bofur, were riding in Bombur's Big Dwarf Hauler, BDH for short. Balin and Dwalin had the Hummer, and there was Myrin's Motor bike and Gandalf's Ferrari too. So the Company started down the road, dawn came and went, and over all it was pretty boring. The only thing that Bilbo noticed was that Thorin, who is the best at the "Do not move a muscle" Game, kept putting his fist to his mouth, like he was burping, only he wouldn't burp. Bilbo had been stuck in the car with nothing to do but watch the world flash by and those he was with for the past two weeks. He knew how Thorin drove, and he was motionless on a straight stretch of road.

"Hey, Kíli," Bilbo said, back handing Kíli's elbow gently. Kíli looked up from his phone, pulled out his ear buds and stared blankly at the hobbit. "What's up with Thorin?" Kíli frowned, looked at his uncle, frowned a little more, and shrugged.

"Beats me," He said, popping his ear buds back in. Bilbo couldn't believe it was nothing, he remembered seeing someone do something like that, but he couldn't remember why. So he kept a cautious eye on the driver.

Well, around ten in the morning, Thorin pulled off into the shoulder of the road, into a large pull out for the Semi truckers to rest at.

"Why are we stopping," Kíli asked. Thorin didn't answer as he shifted the rig to park and got out, after scrabbling with the seat belt buckle for a few moments. He rounded the front of the rig, heading for the ditch about four yards to the right, but he didn't make it. He stopped right in front of the engine and buckled down, one hand on the hood and the other clutching his stomach as he threw up. The awful sound made poor Ori jump and resulted in everyone nearly gagging.

"Shouldn't someone get out and help him," Bilbo suggested after two minuets. All three of them shook their heads.

"Last time, he ratted me out for getting my feet covered in... then ratted me out again for getting sick," Fíli said. But as Thorin buckled down again, the two brothers did get out and help their uncle. Kíli went around back and got out the Backpack holding messy wipes and other things like that, while Fíli went and supported Thorin. Once they were done handing Thorin things so he could clean himself up, since he wouldnt allow either of them to help him at all, Fíli sat in the driver's seat, with Thorin sitting shotgun. But not before he got a blanket from the back because it was "More frigid then Lord Nork's Heart!" For some reason, the dwarves chuckled...

It was around Noon, and Myrin was starting to get worried. They had planned to meet at Farmer Maggot's Gas station before continuing, but The Black Suburban had yet to show up. There was a little park on the grounds of the gas station, everyone was sitting under the pavilion there. Dwalin looked at his phone and growled again.

"He's never late," He mumbled. "Something's happened-"

"Then one of the lads would have contacted us," Balin said, kicking him under the table. "If you have nothing positive to say, be silent. I'm sure they are fine, they probably had something come up-"

"But Thorin is never late," Dwalin hissed. "If something held him up, he would have called, or let at least one of us know." Dwalin frowned a little more and stood. "I'm going to get a drink," He growled, snatching the empty water bottle next to him and walking towards the convenient store. Myrin scanned the parking lot again, still no sign of them, she hoped they were okay... Despite her trying, negative thoughts wormed their way into her mind. She tried to silence it with music, it didn't work, she tried to think about kittens, but it only reminded her about all the precious memories of Fíli and Kíli, and in a round about way, brought her back to thinking about negative things again.

"You look like you've got something on your mind," Bofur said, sitting next to Myrin. Myrin felt her eye twitch, he didn't know the half of it... "It's the lads, isn't it," He guessed, propping his elbow on the table.

"A little bit," Myrin said in a hushed tone. Bofur nodded, pinching his lips.

"I'm sure they're fine."

"How do you stay so positive," Myrin asked, almost hissing. Bofur smirked, opened his mouth to speak, but Myrin spotted the Suburban across the lot. "Oh, Thank Durin they're safe," She said, standing to get a better look. Bofur followed her gaze and stood too.

"See, I told ye they were fine," He said, stepping out from the table and walking to the edge of the pavilion as the car parked. Though, curiosity sparked when they saw Fíli was driving, looking more scared then when he broke his mother's bed, and Thorin looked as though he was about to spew chunks.

"I thought Fíli was a better driver then that," Dori commented, nodding at Thorin's behavior.

"I am a better driver then that," Fíli shouted. He slammed the door shut and pointed at Thorin, who coughed and pulled the blanket tighter around him. "He's sick, where's Oin?"

"He went to the store, he'll be back in a little bit," Gloin said.

"How sick," Myrin asked, walking towards the passenger door as the rest of the passengers got out. While she didn't have a medical degree, she did know quite a bit about medicine, she honestly blamed the boys for that. She opened the door and found out just how sick her poor friend was. He had a raging fever, his nose was running and bright red, he was coughing. "Whoa..." Not once had Myrin seen him this sick, crud, she hadn't seen him this visibly tired in ages! Thorin turned to stare at her and gave a weak smirk.

" 'Ello, back up-" The king leaned over and threw up, almost on Myrin's shoes. While he did that, Fíli handed her the wet wipes.

"I don't get where he's getting all that from, he lost his breakfast two hours ago," Fíli said. Myrin started to rub the back of Thorin's head when he finished, holding the wet wipes just under his head. Thorin didn't have the energy to swat her hand off his head, he just sat up and took the wet wipes again. Myrin's hand moved to his shoulder, she gave him a look of amused pity. He scowled back and burrowed further into his blankets.

"Don't let Fíli drive," He mumbled as the door shut.

"So... what's he got," Kíli asked, taking a munch out of his taco from the mini mart. Fili didnt know how he could still eat... The Red stuck her thumbs in her pockets and gnawed at her cheek.

"I think it's Influenza," She growled. Kíli stared blankly at her. "The Flu?" Then Kíli sucked in a large amount of air, dreading the next two weeks. Myrin however, felt a sense of humor, not so much dread as she wiped her hands. Poor Thorin was in for more then being sick.

"Did he get a shot," Bilbo asked, smelling strongly of hand sanitizing foam and wet wipes.

"He couldn't, Ered Luin's Clinic ran out before he could get his," Myrin said, tossing the used wipe into the trash can.

"What about his passport, doesn't he need one to cross borders," Bilbo pestered.

"That is a rumor that a germ-o-phobe in an Airport created," Bofur lied with a smirk. Nobody really wanted to admit they were breaking about a dozen laws, because nobody had the time to get their passport before they had left. Honestly, if they had, about three hundred red flags on the ORC's radar would have been raised on the flag pole.

Once Oin was back from the mini mart, everyone loaded into their vehicles and continued down the road, Myrin was voted to drive the sicky wagon, as Ori called it, outside of Thorin's hearing of course. They stowed Myrin's disassembled motor bike in the back of the suburban, making sure to empty the tank properly. The helmet sat up on the console, Myrin didn't want it banging around in the back. The rest of the day, Thorin didn't throw up again, but he moaned each time he moved and the rest of that time he spent 'sleeping'. They didn't stop to rest that night, Oin said that the best thing for their king would be to get him to the hotel, so Myrin kept on the road, flooding her system with Mountain Dew, and other various caffeinated drinks. She did the next day like that too, and she wouldn't trade out with anyone either.

The evening of day two, they were passing through a beautiful stretch of road. A large hill, the locals called it a mountain, rose to the left of the Suburban, a bypass lay over the freeway in the middle of seemingly no where. The day was wonderful, low seventies with partially cloudy skies, and everyone would have liked to have been out and playing football, or enjoying a picnic. But they were stuck being sick, watching the wonderful day pass them by. Myrin had her music playing, sandwiched between a Semi-Truck and a mini cooper. The Mini Cooper was a bumper hugger, impatient as a two year old. She kept swerving from one side of the road to the other, trying to see what was backing up traffic. Not that Myrin wasn't trying to see what was happening ahead too, she just wasn't as impatient.

"Can you see anything yet," Myrin asked, looking around the left side of the semi. Fíli leaned to the far right and shook his head, from what Myrin saw in the rear view mirror. Traffic started to move at a faster pace, about thirty mph now, it was better then the stand still they had been in the past hour. They were very lucky Thorin hadn't woken up. Before Myrin could have seen it, something came out from underneath the semi truck. The Suburban swerved, but the rear axle still hit the shredded tire.

"What was that," The Hobbit shouted/mumbled from the back seat with Ori, who sat upright and pulled out his ear buds. Bilbo must have been snoozing.

"An alligator," Myrin said, looking behind to make sure nothing came out with the tire.

"We don't have Alligators in the shire," Bilbo shouted, unbuckling so he could get a better look at the 'alligator'.

"Not that type, it's what truckers call shredded tires," Kíli moaned, popping his back as he sat up from his nap.

"Watch out," Fíli shouted. Myrin turned back just in time to see the trucker in front veer to the right, into the empty lane that had been coned off; a dead stop lay less then twenty feet in front of the suburban. She slammed on the brakes, Bilbo yelped as he flipped pot over tea kettle into the seat between Kíli and Ori, but they wouldn't work. Or, the brakes in the front axle worked, but the ones in the back didn't. She veered to the left, off the shoulder, over the rumble strips part way and coasted to a stop, the right tires on the rumble strips and the left tires in the gravel. They past a good dozen, or so cars, some of which honked at them as they flew by. Once the vehicle stopped, everyone was still for a few moments. And to their horror, Thorin woke up, and he was not in a good mood.

"What happened," He growled/coughed, sitting up and taking in the scene. Myrin ignored him as she got out of the car, a snarl on her face. She looked beyond pissed as she opened up Fili's door, slide the toolbox from under his seat and proceeded to the rear axle. Thorin's glare deepened as his eyes followed Myrin down the window, then he turned his glare to the Hobbit. Bilbo felt his throat tighten under the Dwarf's menacing glare; how on earth had Fili and Kili managed as his nephews for so long with a glare such as that, Bilbo wondered.

"What happened," Thorin rasped again.

"Something up ahead created a dead stop, the brakes weren't working so Myrin veered off the road," Bilbo said. Thorin's glare deepened. "Sir," Bilbo added with another gulp. Thorin turned back around, though his glare remained, and moved to unbuckle, but Fili put his foot over the buckle, and when Thorin would try to move it out of the way, Fili would put it right back.

"Stop that," Thorin growled.

"No, you mister are going to stay in that seat, even if it kills me," Fili said, putting his foot back on the buckle.

"Then you get out and help Myrin-"

"No can do, did you see the look on her face," Fili asked, abandoning the buckle to sit upright. "It looked like she would-" Myrin's furious yell from outside interrupted the blonde, and the way that Ori was blushing, Bilbo was pretty sure they weren't very nice words. Myrin appeared in the window, a yellowish liquid covered her entire shirt, the jacket she wore was drenched too, and she kept spitting out something. Still grumbling things, she moved to the driver's door and opened it up, grabbed her phone and the paper towels Thorin had kicked towards her.

"So what happened," Kili asked. Myrin stopped blotting her clothes and stared up at him, her face still red with frustration.

"That tire we ran over ruptured the line brake, and all the gone fluid-" She stopped speaking and repeated herself, speaking correctly this time.

"You okay Myrin," Fili asked when she finished. "Why don't you take a nap 'til the tow truck gets here..."

"No nap, no tow," She said, scrolling through something on her phone. "I'm ringing Dwalin to have him tow us to the hotel, then we can take care of the rig." As she waited for Dwalin to pick up, she continued to blot her shirt and jacket dry, though the yellow tinge wouldn't leave. Laughter came through the phone's speakers.

"'Ello lassie, is everything alright," Balin asked merrily.

"No, we've lost all our fluid brake, and the l-line ruptured," She growled giving her shirt a final rub. Balin's voice hitched, when he spoke again, he was serious and calm, very much unlike the Balin Bilbo had been acquainted with.

"You alright lass-"

"I just said I weren't," Myrin shouted back, tossing the yellow stained paper towel into the car. "Just come and tow us to the..." Here she waved her hand as if dismissing a thought. "..Sleeping place..." Balin went silent for a while, Myrin set her hand on her hip and let her lips pinch to stifle a yawn.

"Lass, we're on our way," Balin began. Myrin let the yawn come forth as she slid into her seat. "Tell me, have you driven the entire trip," Balin asked as Myrin shut the door.

"Yeah, why," She asked through another yawn.

"Do me a favor and take a nap- And don't you argue with me lass, you need it." She shut her mouth with a grumble and a pop. "You are the last person in my mind that would stutter and snap back." Myrin scowled through the steering wheel, her knees scrunched up behind it. "Are we agreed lass?"

"Yeah, we're near the Buckie's exit outside the wall." Myrin pulled the phone away, setting it on the console, reclining her seat back and kicking her shoes off.

"Wake me when you see them," She mumbled before slipping into her much needed nap. Bilbo released a breath that he hadn't realized he had held.

The rest of the day passed by without much event. Well, that isn't exactly true, the hotel had lost their reservation. Every other hotel that didn't look like a beatnik joint about to collapse was filled to the brim, signs along the freeway informed them that a conkers tournament was being held at the Soil-top Stadium, between the Shire Sharks and Bree Bears. When Bilbo saw it, his face lit up and he smiled brightly, though he knew he wouldn't be able to see it. None of the others much liked conkers, according to Kili and Ori. And with Thorin being sick, Bilbo was volunteered to be the gopher boy. Before Bilbo could explain that he didn't drive, they had moved onto a different topic.

"This is insane," Nori shouted over the phone, after yet another two hours of looking for a decent Hotel. They had decided to hold a 'conference' to decide which of the run down hotels they would stay at. So far, it was a tie between Motel 6 and Super 8. Though, neither option was much liked. According to Gandalf, at least half of the employees were either ORC partners, or ORCs themselves. "What in Durin's name is so special about a Conkers match?!"

"You would be surprised," Gandalf mumbled through his ear piece. Thorin started to hack up his lung again, it silenced Gloin's assumption.

"That's it, if we don't get to a hotel within the hour, he'll have to be submitted to a hospital," Oin shouted. Although he was deaf, he knew a cough when he heard one. Bilbo frowned, he honestly thought that Thorin should have been submitted four days ago, when he first threw up. Grumbling came over Myrin's phone as they thought over the idea. Bilbo opened his mouth to say that a hospital would be a lovely idea, but Myrin beat him to it.

"I know a place, though it may be a bit shady," Myrin said through a yawn.

"Anywhere is better then under a park bench," Dwalin growled irritably. He had grumbled the loudest, though, he might have been closer to the phone then the rest of them. Myrin bit her lip and forwarded the address to everyone.

"Has it got a good reputation," Dori asked.

"If you keep your head low, then yeah," Myrin said, though she didn't look very sure of herself.

"Well, I for one think it's a good idea," Kili said scanning his phone screen. "The sicky wagon will be there in a few minuets, we could get checked in-"

"No," Dwalin interrupted.

"Wait for everyone to get there before checking in, otherwise we'll have to each rent our own rooms," Balin finished.

"We don't want to look suspicious-" Dwalin said, but Gloin cut in.

"And fourteen dwarves, a hobbit and an ISITARI doesn't," He asked.

"The place doesn't care who checks in," Myrin interrupted before another yelling match started. "I've been there plenty of times, they didn't give me a second look." Silence came over the lines as they thought.

"'Gloin', has left the conference," An automated voice said. Myrin didn't wait to hear everyone else leave; she hung up, shifted the suburban out of park and left the lot they were at, heading deep into the heart of Bree. Kili sat up and cleared his throat, opened up his mouth-

"If you're asking where it is, just wait," Myrin said before he could ask. Kili drew his mouth to one side and creased his brows, but leaned back. Bilbo stared out the window into the drizzling streets, also wondering where they were going. He had only been in Bree a few times, though he knew the streets. That being said, he didn't like the area that they were heading...

The hotel Myrin had in mind happened to be the Prancing Pony, it had a reputation to be very friendly, and very nice place for one's high school reunion, but not a good place for... business such as the company's. Spies lay in hiding everywhere, shady folk with bad intentions even more so, though if you were looking for a good rumor, or a good drink, the Prancing Pony was the perfect place to be. Bilbo remembers it being on the international news for more then one reason. Myrin and the group from the Suburban got there first, they maneuvered to a large corner table in the back. Fili and Kili sat on either side of their uncle, to help him stay upright. Though, he said he didn't need it. Thorin tried to look like he was taking in a new scene, but it was a little hard, since he was incredibly hungry and knew where the food came from. Ori sat on the edge of the seat, casually scanning the growing crowd as the night grew longer. Balin and Dwalin joined at some point during the next two hours, then Bombur's BDH arrived, and finally Gandalf.

"Ah, I remember this place," The old man said as he sat down. "Many a fun night was spent here in my youth, though, it was a Bar back then-"

"And it still is my good man," An older fellow said, walking up to the table. He was portly, to say the least, with a notebook and pencil in one hand, the other on his belt loop. "The Prancing Pony has maintained their status as a bar, and upgraded to a motel," He continued with a bright smile, waving his hand around the establishment. "Are you here for the Conkers match?" He swept his gray/black hair back as he spoke, then opened up the notebook when he finished speaking. Bilbo wanted to say yes, a match like that only came one, maybe twice in a century, but he knew that the company probably didn't want to attend-

"Yes, my good fellow," Gandalf said, matching his smile. "A little anniversary present for my daughter." Bilbo stared blankly at Gandalf, for more then one reason. Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo saw Myrin stiffen and stare blankly at Gandalf.

"You did what," She asked. Gandalf smiled and turned towards her.

"Surprise..." Myrin let her jaw drop. Bilbo's eyes widened further, he glanced around the table to see if anyone else was as confused as he was. He knew that Gandalf hadn't married, the tabloids would have said something. Thorin was huddled in the corner with a hood over his face, though he was watching the scene intently, having switched from his view of the kitchen, Dwalin was also watching, though he didn't have a hood up. Balin was scrolling through his phone under the table, Fili and Kili were looking at the menu, the ones related to Bombur were in the rest area, and the lasts five were making themselves busy. Though, none of them looked like they were listening.

The bar-man smiled and wrote something on his notebook. "So that would be, six rooms, if I'm not mistaken, right," he asked as he looked at Gandalf. The Ancient one nodded. "I remember when my son got married," He continued wistfully. "I'll never forget the look on his face when he saw his bride walk down the isle..." He paused and got a little misty eyed, before shrugging and flipping to another page. "I'm sorry... I'm keeping you from your meal, can I get you anything? Pop, tea, some biscuits to munch on?"

"Yes, actually," Myrin said. "Four Dr Peppers, two Sprites-"

"We have Seven Up," The Bar-man said.

"That's fine. Two Lemonades, three Pepsi, a pitcher of water-" It was at this point that Thorin started to hack up his lung again. "And a mint tea with lots of honey, please," Myrin finished. As she thumped Thorin's back hard enough to make him cough harder, the Bar-man stifled a chuckle as he finished writing down the drinks.

"Sounds bad... Hey, why doesn't sicky head up to room 214? It's pretty big, and there are plenty of vacant rooms-"

"DAD!" A younger looking version of the Bar-man walked up and he looked pretty pissed. "What did I tell you about not working?! You are supposed to be on bed rest," He added quietly, turning the older one away from the table and leading him towards a door at the back. The first was trying his hardest to stop the other from dragging him out of the dinning area, also trying to explain his reason for being out there. Balin chuckled as the son came back to their table.

"I'm sorry about that; My dad is a real stickler," He said, rubbing his hands together.

"That's fine, mine is too," Myrin said with a sheepish chuckle. She stood up and straightened her shirt. "I'm gonna go check in sweetie," She said, looking at Bilbo, setting her hand on his shoulder, and letting it slip off as she walked past. He blinked back at her, not quite believing what was happening. Thorin squinted at her then to the hobbit, and back to her, also failing to believe his eyes. Had something happened in the Ferrari?

"Why don't you and Dad wait for the drinks?" Before Bilbo could respond, the barman cleared his throat.

"We do have room service, and I believe Room 214 is avalible," he said, glancing at Thorin.

.

The Hotel, was more like a motel, with the rooms directly facing the outside. The company was staying in the top floor, taking up six rooms. As they trudged towards their rooms, across the cold, raining parking lot, Bilbo fell into step with Balin and Bofur. He pulled the collar of his jacket up, his head sinking into his shoulders, trying to stay dry. Balin glanced at him and chuckled, pulling the coat off of Dwalin's shoulder. He isn't wearing it, Balin figured, the hobbit needs it more then he, he thought again, setting the dark green jacket over the hobbit's shoulders and flopped the hood over his dripping head. Sometimes Balin thought Dwalin was water proof. Bilbo gave him a thankful look. Bofur smirked as he rubbed the top of his hat, pressing it further onto his head.

"So hobbit," He began. Bilbo cringed, it had to be another racial joke, or something of the sort. "What was with Myrin, and that look she gave ye," He finished, adding a sly smirk. Bilbo frowned, and looked at Bofur, he was on the other side of Balin, and the hobbit felt it was quite awkward.

"I thought you would know, seeing as you're all so chummy," Bilbo said, burrowing further into the jacket.

"She lets us in on many topics," Balin said. "But we aren't privy to that particular topic." They made it to the rooms and mounted the stairs, Gandalf suggested they get the bags at a later time as Myrin and Oin shuffled Thorin into the room. As the rest of the company shuffled into their designated rooms, Bilbo couldn't help but wonder...

"Has Thorin ever been this sick before," He asked Balin. The old Dwarrow thought for a moment before responding.

"No laddie, I haven't seen him, or any of the Durins for that matter, that bad a shape since-" Balin cut himself short, cleared his throat and shrugged before continuing. "Not in a long while," He said quietly. Bilbo raised a brow, wondering what would make the Dwarrow get misty eyed...

The next day, Oin was relieved of duty as the 'doctor' for coughing, and Myrin took his place. He was old, and they had been eating fast food for over a month, She called on the poor hobbit to be her 'nurse' and every single person there laughed when she said, everyone but the poor hobbit. Over the next week and a half, it felt as if Thorin had been purposefully making his life miserable, whether it was throwing up on the hobbit, or sneezing on him, or just simply ignoring him. Though, truth be told, Thorin only threw up on Bilbo once, when his feet were between him and the bucket. Once he was finished retching, Thorin had apologized, though Bilbo didn't hear him over the sound of running water in the bathroom. When Thorin sneezed, well, you know what it's like, some come without much warning, and Bilbo had been trying to get Thorin to take the horse pills. The hobbit turn around and returned to his luggage for yet another shirt, after a furious glare at the King, and nearly smashing the pills on the nightstand. One of the things that Thorin learned as a lad, was when to say something, and when not to. Thorin figured now was one of those times.

Where was Myrin all this time, she was off running to get more things, like tea packets, and medicine, returning said items because they were stale, or she had grabbed the wrong thing. She wasn't gone offten, only a day and a half really when one added up all the time.

"I do believe that he hates me," Bilbo said out of Thorin's hearing one afternoon. Myrin looked up from her phone, back at the shut door, then back at the hobbit.

"He doesn't really," she said with a shrug. "He's just sick and when a Durin gets sick it's best to stay clear of them." Bilbo frowned at her, wondering why she needed his help then, if it was best to stay clear.


End file.
